


The Case of the Confusing Colours

by StartWriting (Libra)



Category: Perry Mason (TV), Perry Mason - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Libra/pseuds/StartWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone sends a present to Della Street. And another, and another. And the sender is not Perry Mason ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted, partly, on fanfiction.net, and was beta'd by the late Michelle Weiner, and later by the brilliant and patient OldEnglishD. It started in November 2012, and is now gradually reaching the end ...  
> It will be posted equally gradually chapter by chapter here.  
> It's good to have seen The Case of the Fatal Fashion (1992) before reading this one.

Never had he imagined that after today, he thought he'd miss the sight of the elderly couple. A few days ago, when he haphazardly was thrown into this assignment, he had thought he would have an extensively boring time watching them on their short vacation, because after all, they were somewhere in their seventies already. He had expected to see them reading, sleeping and eating for four days, not giving him a chance to shoot the images that were needed by his boss. 

He'd only been more wrong about a few other things in life. The couple, obviously in love, and more in love than he ever thought possible at their age, had given him plenty of opportunity to make some very nice pictures indeed. They were having a good time. 

His binoculars steady in his hands, he had a very good time as well, watching them. Grinning all the way, eager to see what was next on this show, he thought about how thoroughly he enjoyed himself, while the payment for doing this was good too. This was some assignment.

He had been watching them again now, both stretched out lazily on the big lounging chairs on the terrace of their private getaway, they had been sleeping and reading for most of the afternoon. Just after three, the old man had stood up, struggling to get his back straight, and had stretched his massive body out by putting his arms in the air. Looking down lovingly on the woman in front of him, he had taken her hand, and had kissed it before he had left to go inside the house to fetch drinks. 

Now they toasted something that made the woman smile and stroke his beard. They looked into eachothers eyes for a while, talked a little, kissed and both set their glasses down on the table at the same moment. The big man's form moved surprisingly lightly over hers, to position his face above hers and eat her. That was what he did. He wasn't just kissing her, he ate her. He had been eating her on and off during the last three days, and he was obviously going to do it again. While he did, she wrapped her arms around his neck, as his hands disappeared underneath her dress, and she threw her head back with laughter. It obviously gave him ample room to worship her, starting with her neck and chest. Her hands held his head, while he moved his face over her body towards her breasts and further down, until he was out of sight for the binoculars. 

Of course he couldn't hear her moans, it was just his very vivid imagination. The distance was too big to hear the sounds, but he was very well aware of the moan he did hear. It was his own. Then he sighed, and shook his head. These seniors had more hot-tempered sex than he had ever had, starting outside, on a terrace, of all places. And not once, but twice a day. Well, not every day. But still. 

Seemingly effortlessly, the old man lifted the woman at her arms now to pull her against him in one swift movement. She as much as disappeared in his arms, as they went inside the house, probably to finish what they had started before.

When the phone next to his chair rang, he cursed silently, being sure he'd miss the fun part now. He maneuvered his hands so that he could hold the binoculars firmly with one hand and pick up the receiver with the other. 

" Hi Johnny. " He greeted and then listened to the labored, hoarse tones on the other side of the line. Drinking and smoking heavily had altered the voice of his boss into something that resembled, if anything, sandpaper on old wood. 

" Yes, Johnny, they're still here. " He answered.

Johnny asked another question. It made him grin before answering. " What they're doing? Apart from the things you'd expect some old geezers to do, well, what can I say … I wouldn't go into details about it with my children around, if you know what I mean. But they are having a good time. Definetely. "

Some mumbling on the other side of the line, made him frown. 

" I took pictures of it, yes. " 

The next mumbles gave his face a serious grimace. " All right, Johnny. Tell me what to do next. "

Orders taken from his boss some moments later, he put the receiver down in its cradle again and took his photo camera from the small table with his left hand. He steadied the binoculars with his right hand by resting his elbow on the armrest of his chair, and looked through them towards the house. 

He smirked.

They had not closed their curtains. This was going to be fun.

\- TBC -


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

 

There was a large bouquet of white roses on her desk. Long stemmed, twenty-five of them, in a big blue vase. Mason knew that both colours, white and blue, would match her attire today, he had watched her cherishing the white and blue two piece suit on her slip clad figure early this morning. She had left earlier than he had, to open the office. He liked it when she stood up before him, it gave him ample time to watch her morning rituals closely without handling his own. 

Now he had just attended an appointment with Judge Eleanor Haroldson at the courthouse, just a few blocks from here, and stood still next to Della's desk, his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his suitjacket. He frowned at the roses, as if he was questioning them on the stand. His jaws tightened, he was in deep thought, not noticing the woman next to him, but just for a few short seconds. 

He had not send her these roses. And he did not recognize the handwriting on the envelope that had come with them, and which he hadn't opened of course. As much as she was allowed to open his mail, he was never to open hers. 

" Beautiful, aren't they? Mmm? " 

" Yes. " He said in a low voice. " Who are they from? "

" Uh. " She glanced at him with a mixture of surprise and humour. 

" You thought they were sent by me? " He didn't take his eyes of the roses. 

" Yes, I did. " She nodded. " I've had a secret admirer before remember? You can't blame me for thinking these came from the same man … " 

" Well, they didn't. Read the card ... I want to know who steals my habbits, and by doing so, steals your attention. "

" Yes, sir. " Glancing at him sidewards, she pulled a little card from the envelope and read it. " Oh. Well. That's nice. " 

" Who is it? " 

" They're from Nardone. "

" Vicento Nardone? Really ? He sends you flowers? " 

" Well, I did wear one of his dresses at the ball last weekend. The card says he thanks me for my continued support … "

" Yeah, you did wear one of his dresses. And looked absolutely wonderful in it. " Mason nodded appreciative as he watched her from aside with a sly smile. " It emphasized all of you in all the right ways, my dear. " 

" All the right ways, hmmm ? " 

He took her hand, to pull her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck as far as she could and laughed as he nuzzled his face to hers. 

She sighed. " And here I thought you'd have enough of me after all your attention on our little vacation last week. " 

" Enough? Of you ? " He pulled back from her to see her eyes. 

" U-uh. " She nodded. 

" Well, maybe in a couple of decades I might feel just a bit bored with just the little finger of your left hand ... " He took her left hand and kissed her fingers. " … for a few minutes… " He kissed her palm " … maybe ... " Then he looked into her eyes " … my lady … " 

" You are flattering me… " She gave him a radiant smile. " But you know, that is even better than roses … " 

" Remember that … " He kissed her softly on her forehead, and let her go. 

Straightening her composure, she picked up today's workload from her desk, and walked into Perry's office with him. 

" Oh, and Della ... " He turned to her. " You might not want Ken to know about the sender of the flowers. " 

" Why? "

" Ah. He didn't really like Nardone. " Perry sat down behind his desk. " Well, he didn't like some of his men. " 

" What? Why? " 

" He complained to me about how some of them commented on your uhm … walking gear. "

" My walking gear ? My legs? " 

" Yes. I'm sure they meant well, but they annoyed Ken with some of the terms they used to describe your beauty … " Mason snorted and shrugged. " The boy has a weak spot for you, Della. And he is overprotective. "

" I guess you haven't told him about the way his boss speaks about my … uhm walking gear ? "

" No, I haven't. " He looked at her from under his lashes. " And I intend to keep it that way. " 

" Lollipops ? And, what else did you … " She playfully tapped her chin with her index finger. 

He exhaled. " Stop it. "

" U-uh. Right. " She chuckled low. " Back to business. So, we have mail to handle, some invoices … And I have fresh coffee for you. " 

Though the day continued in a pleasant matter with Della Street on his right side, and her coffee on his left, the roses and their sender didn't leave his mind. 

But it wasn't until the next day, he started to become really suspicious, and so did Ken. The door between their offices was open while a package was delivered, and Ken took it from the courier. By the sounds of snorting comment coming from the other room, Perry knew his apprentice didn't approve of it. 

Ken walked into Perry's office. " Perry, there was a delivery for Della. Probably a dress by the looks of it. " Ken read the card that was attached to the cover, and frowned his brows. " From Vicento Nardone? Do you know anything about that? " 

" No. Nardone ? " 

" Yeah, he sends gifts to Della. You know, like the dress she wore last Saturday, and yesterday's roses? " 

" How did you know about yesterday's roses? Didn't she tell you they were mine ? " 

" Yeah, she did, but I could see she wasn't telling the truth. "

He was treated to a stern look from his boss. 

" I'm not only a lawyer, I'm also a detective, remember? " Ken said in defense. 

Mason shrugged, continuing the stern look. 

Ken rolled his eyes, and made a dismissive gesture. " All right, all right, Perry. If they had been yours, she would have taken them home with her last night. And, since she hadn't, I just read the card this morning that had come with the roses to see who had sent them to her. " 

Mason shrugged again. " So, this package came from Nardone too? Is it a dress again? "

" Yeah. The card says it's from New York, and it's signed with 'VN' . Probably Nardone again. And I do think it's a dress. "

" Mmmmm. " Mason hummed. " Della is at the courthouse now for files I asked her to copy. She is probably not coming back to the office today. Let me see it. "

" Sure … " Ken Malansky took the dress cover and opened the zipper. It revealed a red, classic, long sleeved dress. The satin was heavy, with silverish seamings and as little fringe as the woman who was to wear it according to the sender. 

" Wow. It's really beautiful. " Ken nodded appreciative.

" Yes. " Perry just confirmed.

" It's better than the blue one I tried to give her. " 

But this comment was lost on his boss. Mason's visual intelligence pictured the red dress on Della's appearance. He instantly knew it would look swell on her, the colour would suit her brilliantly and the fabric would drape elegantly around her long legs. She'd wear the red lipstick and those impossible red heels with it. She would look stunningly beautiful, and he was the one to have her on his arm, while she wore it. And in his arms, while she wore it. He smiled in anticipation. 

" Perry, do you think this Nardone guy, is after her? " Ken's voice asked him from far away.

" After her, Ken? " Mason mouthed him. 

" Yeah, well, you know, Nardone wants to court her, to be with her ? Date her ? " 

" Oh, no, I don't think so." 

" Are you sure? " Ken asked. 

" Well, one can never be really sure around a mobster of course, but I know Nardone prefers his women to be half his own age. And preferably younger. "

" His women? But he's married, right? "

" I don't know about that. He could be. He's a real mafiaso, Ken, the old school kind. Connected to the Gambino's and the Lucchese family. " Mason stood up from his chair, and leaned forward to feel the fabric of the dress again. " Married or not, he's wealthy, powerful and probably has ten women on every finger … "

" But … ? "

" He's not after Della, Ken. " He watched him thoughtfully. 

" It wouldn't be the first time someone tries to get her attention. "

" Nardone knows she's mine. " Mason stated firmly. 

Ken chuckled at his boss' possessive tone and gesture. " So, you trust him? " 

" Somehow, yes. " Now was definetely not the time to tell Ken why he trusted Nardone, with his life, and with that of Della Street for that matter. " True, she is more beautiful every next day, but he knows she is already loved, Ken. By me. " He sat down behind his desk again, and rubbed his face. " There is something else going on here. " 

" Well, we'll just have to keep an eye on this. " 

" We will. " Mason nodded, pretending to read the casefile in front of him again." We will. " He followed Ken with his eyes, when he walked out of his office. 

The moment Ken Malansky closed the door behind him, Mason picked up the phone. " Paul? It's Perry. I need you to run a check on someone. " 

After giving orders to Paul Drake, who extensively used this opportunity to make fun of his father's best friends alledged motives behind this assignment, Mason stood up to give the dress a closer look. He stroked the fabric, while his mind's eye pictured the dress on the fabulous form of Della Street again. He sighed. It was beautiful, it would suit her. And, it was made for her especially. It should not be wasted because of his sense of , what was it? Was it really jealousy? Why exactly did he feel so uncomfortable about this? 

He decided to take the dress home, and surprise her with it after dinner. 

####

" Lauren Jeffreys called. She wants to thank you again for acquitting her, and she says she is doing better now. " Della said while clearing their dishes. " She thought it was a splendid idea we took a detour home, from New York. And, I think so too. " Her soft hand touched his shoulder to emphasize her words. 

" Yes. " He took her hand and pulled her down to kiss her lightly on her lips. " As it was to send Ken ahead home, so we could spend the days together, just the two of us … " 

" It was divine there … " She smiled. " But, you know, Perry, I still don't understand why Frank Halloran just gave you the keys to that private getaway. I really thought he'd still be angry with you, or at least didn't want to have anything to do with you anymore. He was so resentful towards you before he was convicted. " 

" Well, he asked me to come and see him in prison, remember, to talk and to tell me how sorry he was. He said he felt very bad about shooting me, and asked me for forgiveness. Maybe that's why. I don't really know, and I don't really care. But, he did keep his promise this time, the getaway is ours now. I have the deed, signed, sealed and delivered. " 

" Yes. I know he felt bad. For good reasons. He could have killed you … " Her movement suddenly stopped, while a shiver coursed through her. She remembered the phone call from Ken, and the nervous way he told her Perry had been shot and had been taken to the hospital. She recalled the coldness she had felt at that moment, and the screaming voices, that had yelled at her in the back of her mind, when she had walked into his hospital room. 

He noticed and stood up to put warm arms around her waist from behind. " But he didn't, hmmm? " He murmured to her ear. 

" No. " She leaned back to his chest. " No, he wanted to, but didn't succeed. Which is good for him, or I would have send someone to kill him. Or did it myself. " She turned in his embrace and sought for the scar on his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, touching it, feeling the little lump with her index finger. 

He took her hand from his shoulder, and kissed it. " Oh, but you would not have the best defense to get you acquitted. " 

" As if you would defend a guilty client … " She mused playfully. 

" I'd make an exception for you, I suppose. Purely for selfish reasons of course. " 

" I thought that's why you're tutoring Ken? To get me out of trouble if I need it ? " 

" Part of it, yes. " He looked into her eyes and kissed her deeply. " Another reason is that I want to spend more time with you. " 

" Like we did last week? " She whispered between two kisses. 

" For example, yes. " He breathed to her cheek. " But I have some more ideas … " 

" I think I'll stick around … " 

" You should … " He kissed her again and pulled her to him, to sway through the kitchen on music that wasn't there. Enjoying the embrace, he willed away the thought about the roses she had received from Nardone, and today's delivery, also from Nardone. The desire to see her wear the beautiful dress was as strong as the urge to know why Nardone made her a dress again. And why he sent her flowers. Paul had to hurry his investigation. 

" Perry? " 

" Mmmm? " He looked at her, quizically. He hadn't heard what she had said. 

" Where are you ? " 

" I … I have something for you." He kissed her fingers and held her hand while he walked out of the kitchen. 

" How I love presents … " She walked with him to their bedroom, where he had hung the dress in front of their dressing mirror. 

" Ooooh, Perry. That is beautiful. " She held her hand on her mouth, while very gently touching the fabric of the dress, the dreamy look in her eyes betraying her admiration and bliss. Then she turned to him. " But, this is ridiculously expensive, really, this … how, Perry, did you … " She noticed his pensive gaze. " You didn't buy this, did you? " 

" No." He said soundless, and shook his head. 

" But … Where did it come from ? Did Nardone send it ? " 

" Yeah. " He said silently. 

She let go of the dress. " Oh. Nardone. Again. What do I make of that? " She clasped her hands in front of her face, and watched Perry from aside. 

" I don't know. " He glanced back at her. " I honestly don't know. " 

" Do you want me to send it back? " 

" No. No. Noooo. It will look beautiful on you. And we have the Charity Banquet this Friday, which is the best opportunity to wear it. " 

" Are you sure? " She put her hand on his chest. 

" It is a nice dress, baby. " He murmured while he nuzzled her neck. " And I have some suggestions about the make-up and the heels you should wear with it. " 

She pulled back to watch his face. " U-uh. You do, now, do you? " 

She laughed when he pulled her back in his embrace, and she whispered. " So how do I know you didn't order Nardone yourself, to make this dress ? " 

" You see, that is exactly what bothers me, this time I really didn't … " 

" What ? " The expression on her face was priceless, it was a mixture of surprise and absolute awe. " You ordered the dresses I received before from Nardone? I thought they were just … " 

He rubbed his neck and sighed deeply, as if he was annoyed he was found out by her. " Well, I did ask Nardone to make the one you wore last Saturday. " 

She widened her eyes. " No, you didn't. " The disbelief shattered from her deep tone of voice. 

" I did. He is good. " Mason narrowed his eyes. " You don't really think I'd give him, or anyone, the opportunity to just make dresses for you, without my approval or … my … " He stuttered at her incredulous look.

" Your approval? Or … ? "

" Permission. " 

" Your per-mis-sion? Noooo. " She chuckled out loud, and slapped his chest. " Really, Perry Mason, you are something else. I can't believe it. " She watched him with smiling eyes. " No wonder Nardone knew my seizes without taking them. " 

" You're right. No one takes your seizes. " He grinned and crinkled his nose. " Except me. " 

" The way you take my seizes, you can not be quite accurate, Perry Mason … It's a wonder the dress fit me so well. " 

He chuckled, and watched her touching the dress again. 

" So, you don't want me to send it back, and you do want me to wear it ? " She queried. 

" The most important question is, do you want to wear it ? " 

" Oh, yes. Definetely. " There was no doubt at all in her voice. 

" So? " 

" Now? " 

" Yes. Try it on. " Then he added playfully. " You might need some help though. " 

" I'd say. Why ? "

" It has a hidden zipper … " 

She chuckled. " Oh, that could be fun … "

" It could … " 

He closed the curtains and sat down on the lounge chair near the window to watch her. But she didn't move. 

" So ? "

" So, Mr. Impatient, you leave this room, and I'll try the dress. Grant a lady some privacy here. " She took on her typical no nonsense pose, stood straight up with her arms crossed in front of her. The slight tilt of her head told him she was playful, but serious. 

" What ? But … " he pouted. 

" Go away. " She directed him. 

He groaned, and stood up. " Can I at least see you wearing it ? " 

" If I like what I see first, yes. Now go. " She made a dismissive gesture. 

He feigned chagrin as he left the room, and shut the door behind him. 

But his grin was extensively wide. 

 

TBC


	3. Chapter 2

Mason, freshly showered and shaven, sipped his hot coffee, and slowly read through the pages of a fresh casefile. He had just finished scanning through the early morning news paper, taking in the headlines, every now and then stopping to read a few sentences of an article.

He sighed deeply. The slow start of this day allowed him to continue to indulge in the luxurious state of his body and mind. For good reasons. He fumbled with his fingers, and humoured himself. His mind still drifted off to a certain red dress.

She had tried it on the evening before. She had approved of what she had seen in the mirror. She had shown him the dress, and moreover, she had modelled it for him. And the dress did have a hidden zipper. And he had found it. The sight of her in the dress, the seductiveness in her eyes when she asked him to literally undress her, had crumbled his carefully build intentions to not instantly give in to her intentions. He hadn't even taken the time to remove all of his clothes. Nor hers.

He grinned while he rubbed his beard and wondered just very shortly how other men of his age experienced their love and lust. And he wondered if the passion that Della Street had always been able to arouse in him until this day, was matched somewhere.

Another cup of coffee would certainly wake him up from his reverie. There were no urgent cases to be dealt with today, but there was work to be done. He needed to be sharp.

Though the woman phoning him, was the same woman he had undressed the evening before, he picked up his phone without thought.

" Paul for you, on line one. "

" Thank you ... "

" Perry? " she asked hesitantly, before putting Paul through.

" Mmmm ? "

" What did you tell him to do? He sounds … different somehow. "

" I'll let you know when he told me. Put him through, please. "

" All right. "

" Paul? " Mason sat back in his chair.

" Hiya Perry. I have been lurking around this Nardone and the guys of that part of the Nardone family, like you asked me to do. I have found some very interesting information about them. Did you know the Nardones are related to the Lucchese's family? "

" Yes. As I recall, Nardone's grandfathers second wife was from the Lucchese side of the mafia there. "

" That's right. Now, Perry, did you also know nobody is supposed to know about this uhm … dressing hobby of Nardone? "

" Yes, I know. He wants it to be a secret. "

" You could have told me about that secrecy, you know. His son nearly killed me when I asked him about the dresses his father is said to design. "

" I suppose I should have warned you about it, I'm sorry. But I thought it was an open secret. Everyone knows, but nobody talks about it. "

Paul snorted. " You suppose, hmmm … Well, you suppose right, Perry. It is an open secret, but no one is allowed to talk about it. I almost got killed. "

Perry snorted, and shook his head, as if the man on the other side of the line could see him doing that. " It's not their style to behave like that without reason. If they really treated you that bad, Paul, you must have joked about it. That is a cardinal sin for the family. You don't make fun of Nardone, or you are either killed or badly abused. "

There was a silence on the other side of the line. " Paul? " Perry's low voice was loud. There was no answer. " Did you joke about it, Paul? Did you make fun of him ? "

Paul cleared his throat. " Uhm. Yes, Perry. That's what I did. I'm sorry 'bout that. " The demure tone of young Paul Drake made Perry grin extensively. He was just like his father.

" Well, than that's probably why you almost got killed. Now, what have you found? "

" I asked Nardone's son, also Vicento, about the flowers and the dress you believe he sent to Della. He confirmed his father had sent the flowers, but he denied he had sent the dress. He said his father would never use heavy satin like that to make a dress, and he also said, and I quote ' he would not make a dress like that for a lady that is not his own.' "

" 'Not his own', hmm? I thought so. "

" That's hardly reassuring, Perry. "

" Why? "

" The question is, when does Nardone believe something or someone to be 'his own'. He also thinks New York is his. He might also think about Della that way. "

Perry chuckled. " In a way, New York is his own property. He has been said to blackmail the mayor and part of the council, to pay less taxes and to purchase more real estate. But no, I don't believe he is after Della. There is something else going on here, Paul. "

" Mmm. Yeah, sure, whatever, Perry. But what about the dress? I do believe Nardone didn't design it, or make it. "

" The heavy satin that was used, was expensive and very exquisite. It should not be very hard to find out where the fabric was obtained. If you can find out where it came from, you might be able to find out who made the dress. And we'll take it from there. "

" Yeah, sure. I'm on it. And one of my guys is also. "

" Thanks, Paul. Keep me posted. " Mason was about to finish the conversation, and stood up from his chair.

" Oh Perry, one more thing … "

" Yes? "

" About this Nardone, Perry. Uhm … "

" What about him? "

" He went out of town just now. I saw him leaving for the airport a couple of hours ago. "

" Where is he going? Do you know that? "

" They said he is heading for Denver, Perry. "

" Oh. " Mason sat down in his chair again, and rubbed his neck.

" Yes, oh. That's what I said too. Should we be worried? "

" No, well, you should not worry. What you should do, is follow him here. "

" Oh. All right. " Then there was a silence again. " I should? "

" Yes, you're supossed to join us remember, tomorrow night at the Charity Banquet, and the Ball afterwards? You are to escort Della, because I'll be busy monitoring and inspecting the actual fundraising. "

" Oh, sheeezz. Is that tomorrownight ? Thanks for reminding me, Perry. I still have to pick up my tuxedo from the drycleaner's. "

" You do that, Paul. And the good thing is, while you're here in Denver, you can follow Nardone along the way. "

After saying their goodbyes, Perry Mason stood up and leaned forward, head down, his hands flat on the surface of his desk. So, as he had come to expect, the dress wasn't made, nor sent by Vicento Nardone. Someone else had gone through great lengths to make a beautiful red satin dress for the beautiful Miss Della Street. That was a mystery.

Now, Vicento Nardone himself was heading for Denver. That could be a coincidence.

Della Street was going to wear the red dress tomorrow night at the Charity Banquet. That was a treat.

Though something still didn't feel right, he decided not to worry, like he told Paul not to worry. Problems that were unknown, could not be dealt with efficiently anyway.

That was a fact.

 

####

 

The Charity Banquet had finished just after ten, and now, in a few minutes, the dancing was about to start in the big ballroom. The dancefloor was already filling up with guests, eager to start dancing. Others were sitting down at the tables and the bar next to the dancefloor.

Someone else, a fellow lawyer, would take over his honourable task of counting the incoming funds from now on, which gave Perry Mason the opportunity to mingle with the crowd and take his time to talk to people and shake hands. Amongst others, he recognized D.A. Reston, Judge Nelson, Judge Haroldson and Lieutenant Edward Brock. Ken Malansky had come into the ballroom with the distinguished Amy Hastings on his arm, and had left a few minutes afterwards. No sight of Della, nor Paul. Yet.

And, of course Perry recognized the silver dress again, when it entered the big ballroom. After all, this was Denver, and she lived and worked here as well. The extremely attractive and proud lady that wore the silver dress, had tried to draw his attention more than once tonight, and did so again now, but her brown eyes weren't the ones he wanted to drown in.

So he ignored her and continued his conversation with D.A. Reston and Judge Nelson, about the funding for the renovation of the Denver General Hospital, the object of the Charity Banquet this time.

" It's good to know a lot of Denver's rich and famous have decided to come here and donate, " Judge Nelson looked around and approved of the crowd out loud.

" We need all the money we can gather for the renovation, Alexander, it seems age has been real hard on the hospital building, " Perry adressed the Judge.

Suddenly, his two conversation partners both stopped and stared past him. " Well, I have to say age has not been hard at all on your Miss Street, Mason … " The well-respected D.A. Michael Reston did nothing to hide his admiration, as he touched Mason at his upperarm to direct his attention to the doorway, even though there was no reason to do so. The big attorney had already turned before Reston could make him. He had already felt her presence.

In the blink of an eye, he remembered the first time he had turned around like this, to see her entrance, on the arm of another man. As now, it had taken his breath, and had made him gleam with pride. The other man at that time had been Paul Drake senior. This time it was the young Paul Drake, who escorted her through the crowd. Earnestly taking care of the lady on his arm, protecting her against the mass of people, he charmingly maneuvered them both over the less crowded dance floor. She smiled to the young man, who apparantly joked to her about something, which broadened her smile into laughter. Her loud chuckles reached the other side of the dance floor, and left the great Perry Mason even more speechless than he already was.

Yes, age had been gentle to Della Street. He already knew that of course, he saw it every single day. But today, the red dress and the proud way in which she wore it, confirmed it into perfection. He took a deep breath, and waited for her to notice him. Which could not take her very long.

She needed four seconds to find him in the crowd, and meet his soft and proud stare with her own. She halted and looked at him. He held his breath.

_Yours._

The word she formed soundlessly with her red lips, made him feel weak in his good, and in his bad knee. He leaned on a chair for support and exhaled.

He answered, equally soundlessly, barely visible for bystanders, with the only possible answer.

 _Mine_.

Holding her head slightly down, she blinked and looked at him from under her lashes with the most dazzling smile.

Yours. It had been a soft sigh, forty three years ago, just before he kissed her after having her completely, her beautiful body and her beautiful mind. No need to have a license to go with that word, or a golden band on her finger. Despite his and her own struggles, stubbordness, pride, stupidity, she was still here now, and he was still here. And she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, her purifying effects humbled him, her working skills and stamina sharpened and facilitated him, her voice embraced him, her looks overwhelmed him, her touch aroused him, and now her presence captured him.

For just a moment, there was a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard, fully aware of his bliss.

_Mine._

_Yours_.

The young Paul Drake watched his spare parents getting wrapped up in eachother completely and knew better than to interfere in their private moment. He let go of Della's arm, and slipped away silently, determined to start a conversation with a good looking red haired lady he had seen before.

" My dear, you turned many heads … " Perry's broad smile was lovingly, noticed by many, but only meant for her.

" Did I turn yours? " she asked.

" Don't you always ? " The little twinkle in his eyes was reflected in hers.

" Well, Mr. Mason ? " She cocked her eyebrows.

" Well, what, Miss Street ? "

" Will you dance tonight? "

" Oh, will I … " He kissed her hand before leading her to the dance floor, and whispered a soft ' I love you ' to her ear, as the slow music started to play. He softly hummed with her, swaying, turning, holding her close, two fingers of his right hand stroking the spot where the dress left her back bare. It was only a little gap, just above the small of her back.

He thought about whoever designed the dress, and his or her brilliance to design the back of the dress like that. Kissing her temple, he thankfully concentrated on her scent and softness, and smiled. This was going to be a nice night. Everything was 'fine, just fine'. Even the bad knee was cooperating tonight.

" Did you notice how many heads turned when you came in? " He murmured, repeating his earlier words.

" I noticed you. " She pulled back to look at him.

" It's hard not to notice me. "

" That's true, dear. " She chuckled, then turned serious, her hand squeezing his. " But I do think you're the most handsome man here."

" That's not what I meant, Della. And … " He turned to avoid another couple dancing his way, then whispered, drowning in the brown eyes he did want to drown in. " … I don't agree. But I like your sweet words… "

" You know I love you … "

He leaned in close, his lips were just inches from hers. " Don't. " She pressed a warm hand to his chest. " Let's get something to drink, before we'll end up at the frontpages again. "

Fetching their champaign, he looked around and saw Paul Drake talking vibrantly with a nice young red haired lady. Ken Malansky and Amy Hastings were nowhere to be seen, and the silver dress had disappeared.

He turned to his lady in red, and handed her a flute with bubbles to toast their life. The rest of the world came second.

For now.

For someone else had also detected his lady in red.

 

####

 

He leaned backwards against the door when his low voice softly stated. " That was a very nice evening. As could be expected. "

" Charity evenings are always nice. " She smiled and lay the keys and her purse on the side table. " I can't believe there was so much money collected tonight. Unbelievable. "

" And you … " He stroked her cheek slowly and gently with the back of his hand " … you are incredible. " His gaze swept over her " I still think you don't know how much I love you."

" I think I do actually … " She closed the gap between them and reached for his collar. " I love you, Perry. I love my life with you. "

He lingered his arms around her waist, and pulled her to him into a soft embrace, and swayed with her, kissing her temple.

" Do you think you can undress me again? I still need some help with the zipper … "

She felt how he was grinning against her cheek. " And I need some help with the bow tie … "

" Oh, let me help you with that … " Her slender fingers had no trouble at all taking the bow tie of his neck, and started to work their magic on the buttons of his shirt and the skin underneath.

" Della … " He used his broadness to slowly push her through the hallway, and up the first step of the stairs. It gave them the perfect face to face position to start whatever it was they were dancing into, with a gentle kiss. Burying his face in her neck, he searched for the hidden zipper of her dress, which lay covered beneath the fabric at her left side, and started halfway her left thigh, just above where the wide skirt was taken over by the bodice. Unzipped, it splitted the dress in two parts, which left ample room for his right hand now to extensively but slowly explore the soft skin he knew he'd find there. Again, it took so little to ignite their familiair passion. It crept throughout his body so fiercely, he smirked.

His fingers firmly roamed over her thigh and upwards over the bare skin of her back. He groaned while turning his attention to her mouth, tasting her lips with sultry movements, gently sliding them apart to have more of her. Her arms curled up around his neck as she pushed her body to his, breathing anticipating sighs into his mouth.

They both stopped moving at the sound of approaching footsteps at the frontdoor. The doorbell rang, and there was a knock on the door. And another. And another.

" Mason ? Open the door, please … "

Perry whispered. " It's Brock. "

" It is? "

" Yes. "

" Can't he go away ? "

" No, if he comes all the way up here, banging on the door, it must be very important. " Perry Mason closed his eyes and sighed. He leaned his head to her warm cleavage, grinning in reaction to her soft chuckles, which made her shake against him.

" I guess that was it for now. " He locked his eyes on hers while zipping the dress.

She sighed deeply, tilted her head, and touched the back of her hair. " For now … "

As he walked to the door, she stopped him, and whiped her lipstick from his mouth. " You might want to look presentable, Perry … "

He just snorted.

" Mr. Mason ? I am sorry to disturb you. "

" Brock? Is that you? " Perry opened the big front door.

Lieutenant Edward Brock, still dressed in his tuxedo for the evening, checked out the face of the big man in front of him. " Yes, it's me Mason. I am very sorry to disturb you. "

" Well, you came all the way here to talk to me. It must be important, Brock. Come in. "

" Thank you, sir. And it is important. " Ed Brock made a little bow, when he noticed Della. " Goodevening, Miss Street. "

" Lieutenant Brock … "

" Do you want a drink? " Perry asked him, walking into the living room.

" No, thank you, Mason. " Brock's loud voice declined.

" Well, I need one. " He poured himself whiskey from a carafe, and asked Della with his eyes if she wanted a drink too. She shook her head shortly. He downed his whiskey in one gulp, and turned to the lieutenant. " So, tell me, Brock. Why the hell are you here? "

" There was an attack on Mr. Vicento Nardone, Mason. I think you've met before. He is in Denver, in the hospital now, and he says he needs to speak to you right away … "

" Nardone … " Mason sighed. " All right. Just give me … "

But Brock cut him off. " Nardone said he also needs to speak to you, Miss Street. "

" To me? Why? "

" It's something about the dress you're wearing … "


	4. Chapter 4

Lieutenant Brock had arranged a taxi for them to come to the hospital and see Nardone at once. It was waiting outside for them. The driver charmingly held the door open for Della and supported her climbing in. She moved over for Perry to sit down next to her at the back seat. The urge to sit next to him and lay her head on his chest was strong, but she resisted. 

" How many times has this happened before ? " Perry Mason sighed while the taxi slowly pulled off their drive way. " How many times did someone come to drag us away from a nice dinner, a nice private evening, just the two of us, a vacation ? " 

" Oh … " Della smiled at him, and pursed her lips, shaking her head. " … I'm just glad I never started counting. "

He watched her and rubbed his forehead. She leaned sidewards, to stroke his hand. " It's all right, Perry. It's part of the job. Our job. " 

" Yes. " He mumbled. " I know. " 

His seriousness struck her. " What is it? "

" I'm worried. " He turned his hand to hold hers. 

" We'll just have to see why he wants to talk to you. Maybe it's not important at all, and we'll be back home before we know it. " She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 

" That's not why I'm worried. I'm just wondering why he wants to talk to you. " Mason played with her delicate fingers, and brought them to his lips to kiss them. Then he looked at her again. " I have this feeling something is wrong. "

" Of course there is something wrong. Nardone is in the hospital because he was attacked, Perry. " She glanced at him. " Who knows? Maybe he just wants to see me wearing his dress … " She playfully cocked her eyebrow, and gave her head a tilt. This had always made him smile, and it did so now. 

He kissed her hand again and held it while he gazed outside the car window. Now would be a good time to tell her Nardone didn't make the dress she was wearing. But he didn't. He wanted to speak to Nardone first. Why would the mobster want to speak to him anyway? Why was he attacked? And why now? And why was he in Denver? And what did Della's beautiful red dress have to do with it? 

Utterly annoyed by the loose ends that were whirling around in his mind on a late Friday night, he decided to watch the woman he had loved all of his life, and hold her hand until they reached the hospital. 

Vicento Nardone's room was located at the end of the most secluded hospital wing, and heavily secured by his bodyguards, most of them obviously members of the family. Their sun glasses, worn even at night, and their expensive Italian suits betrayed their origin, as did the firm set of their stubbled jaws. Their strong no nonsense attitude created a special atmosphere which was surprisingly enough not threatening at all, but merely serious and held a demand for respect. The doctors were searched by the bodyguards before walking into the room where the big mafioso was said to be recovering from a brutal attack. 

The father of the Nardone family had been under attack at Denver airport the moment he had climbed into the imousine that was there to bring him to his hotel. Nardone had been shot at, three bullets had hit him, one had brushed his scalp at the right side just above his ear, one bullet had gone through his upperarm, and one had hit his shoulder. Nothing vital was hit apparently, but he was in a lot of pain. His groaning could be heard outside his room, in the hall way, where Perry Mason was waiting now for someone to let him in. 

He gently paced back and forth at the door, his black hat and top coat suggesting he was part of the family as well. Lieutenant Brock and Della Street were stopped by two of Nardone's sons at the glass sliding doors,. Perry had been allowed to walk through into the hall way immediately, while Brock had to answer some questions, before they were going to let him walk through. Della just watched Perry. Every now and then their eyes met for a short moment. 

Suddenly the hospital room door opened, and a small man peeked through. 

" Who are you? " The Italian accent was unmistakable. 

" My name is Mason. Mr. Nardone requested to speak to me urgently. " 

" Where is your wife, Mr. Mason ? " 

" I don't … " 

But he was cut off by Della, who appeared next to him at the door. " She's here. " 

" Come in, both of you … " The small man stepped aside to let them into the room. " I'll tell Mr. Nardone you're here. " 

The room was dark, and smelled like cigars and after shave, not a typical hospital scent. A table with four chairs around it filled a small part of the room that was seperated from the other part by a big white curtain. As the curtain was pushed aside, they saw Vicento Nardone in his white hospital bed. Della sought for Perry's hand and when she found it, he squeezed hers lightly. 

The small man leaned forward over the bed, mumbling an Italian sentence to Nardone's ear. The wounded man struggled to sit up, and tried to open his eyes. He swore extensively, and yelled at the man next to his bed. " Occhiale da sole …! Presto ! "

" He wants his sunglasses. " Perry whispered to Della. " No one has ever seen him wihout them. "

" He probably doesn't feel dressed without them. " Della said softly. 

" Mason … " The voice from the bed that had been so loud and grumbling before, now came out hoarse. 

Perry let go of Della's hand and approached the bed, very carefully not to move against it. 

" Nardone … " He squeezed the hand of the man in the hospital bed gently. " Cosa accade ? " 

" Saccente … parlare italiano … " Nardone's face showed a grimace that resembled a smile. " … molto male … " 

" Yes, that was very bad Italian with a very bad American accent, I know. "

Nardone tried to laugh, but groaned in pain in stead. His own Italian accent sounded through when he spoke. " Don't make me laugh, Mason. It hurts … "

" Can't they give you something against the pain? " 

" No, I refuse. " Nardone growled. " I want to be sharp and conscious. Someone has been shooting me, Mason, I need to stay awake. " 

" You have a lot of security around here. I think you should be able to sleep. I think you are safe. "

Nardone grumbled. " I'm never safe when I'm not at home, Mason. Remember, my world is much different from yours. " 

" I know. " Mason confirmed in a low voice. " I know. " 

Nardone moaned again. 

" Do you want me to call the doctor? "

" No. I wait till my own doctor is here. He is on his way here from New York. " Nardone shifted a little in his bed, adjusting the covers with his left hand. " Now, Mason, you know I was attacked. And I think I know who did it, and why. I can really no tell you, but … "

" I think you should tell the police … " Mason cut him off. 

Nardone made a sound that resembled laughter, but the pain in his body was apparantly excrusiating, and he ended up moaning again. " The police … " he snorted. " No, I need your help, Mason. " 

" Then tell me what the hell this is about. " 

" I can't tell you now … " 

" I don't see how I can help you, if you're not going to tell me the whole story, Nardone. I need to know details, names, locations, before I can start to investigate whatever it is you need me to investigate. " Mason rubbed his eyes, he felt tired. 

" Listen, I wouldn't have asked you to come here if there was nothing. There is something you can do … "

" What is that? " 

The answer was muffled away in another pain attack. It took Nardone so very long to be able to speak again, the broad man at his bedside stood up to walk away. 

" No. Wait … " Nardone sighed. " Just a minute, I will feel better in a minute. Mason … your lady. Is she here ? " 

" My … lady is here, yes. " 

" Let me speak to her, please, … " 

" Yes. " Mason looked over his shoulder to the spot where Della had been standing before. 

" … alone. " Nardone added. 

Perry turned to Nardone briskly. " You want to speak to her, alone ? " 

" Yes, please. " 

The lawyer tightened his jaws and watched the man in the bed in front of him with darkening eyes. 

" Trust me. I need some answers from her first, and then I get back to you. " 

Mason's already darkened eyes turned darker.

" Trust me, Mason. " 

He rubbed his beard. " I don't know. You are still a mobster, Nardone. " 

" I cannot deny that, Mason. But have I ever hurt a woman? " 

" Not that I know of … " He answered truthfully. 

" I haven't. I wouldn't. Especially not a lady that is as lovely as yours. " 

" I just don't trust you, Nardone … Especially not with a lady that is as lovely as mine. "

" Stay close, sit over there and watch me talk to your lady. Please, Mason … " 

Perry Mason stretched his back, and watched the wounded Vicento Nardone in his hospital bed one more time. " All right. But the moment I think you're up to something … " He stopped shortly at the sight of Nardone taking his sun glasses off. " … anything … I'm going to kill you myself. " 

Without the sun glasses, the mafioso was as scary as he was with them, but the gaze in his eyes could express honesty. Maybe. " I'm really not up to something, as you put it, Mason. " 

" Perry? " Della's questioning voice made Nardone turn his eyes to Della, and he stared at her, while his mouth fell open and his eyes widened. 

The big attorney watched it, without any surprise. This was the effect her appearance sometimes had on men, no matter what age or origin. 

" Oh, Mio Dio. " Nardone's voice was soft as he sighed the words. 

" Yes, my God too, " Mason mumbled and turned around towards the curtain, where Della was waiting, watching him with questioning eyes when he approached her. 

" Are you all right, Perry ? "

" I am. He wants to talk to you, Della, alone. " 

" Alone? " She shook her head quickly and shortly. " What about? " 

" He didn't say. " He watched her seriously. " I'll wait here for you. Be careful, baby." 

" Oh, I'll be fine, I suppose. What can he do to me ? He's wounded and he's in pain. " 

Mason shrugged. 

" I just want to know what he wants to know, Perry. " 

He stopped her walking past him. " If you don't like what he does or says, no matter what, get away from him, Della. " 

Now it was her turn to shrug. 

Mason added " He is a mobster, no matter how vulnerable, wounded or trustworthy and reliable he may seem … "

" I know, Perry. " She put a delicate hand to his chest. " I'll be fine. " 

He followed her with his eyes, walking to Nardone, and then watched her sitting down on the chair next to the bed. The wounded man kept his sun glasses off, and smiled at her warmly. 

Mason sat down on a chair next to the curtain and took in their body language, while they talked. Nardone obviously asked her some questions that startled her. She swallowed hard a couple of times during the conversation. To Mason it seemed to be a relatively peaceful conversation, without the threats or the unwanted intimacy he had expected, and had feared. There was one perticular moment when he wanted to stand up to interrupt them and take Della away. It was the moment when the mafioso took her hand and stroked it gently. But before he had had the time to stand up, she had pulled her hand away from him and had smiled politely in a demure way. 

After ten minutes, she stood up. Nardone lay down on the pillows again, and moved his face to the side. It held a painful grimace, and he closed his eyes before he put on his sun glasses. 

Perry held out his hands, when she came walking back to him. " Are you okay ? " he asked her softly. 

" Yes. I am. " But he could feel her hands were shaking, she wasn't all right at all. She held one of her hands to her chest and avoided his gaze. " He is asleep now. And I really just want to go home … " She watched Nardone from over her shoulder. 

" Let's get out of here … " Perry gently put his arm around her shoulder. They walked out of the room slowly, towards the glass doors behind which Brock was still waiting for them. 

" We'll just have to speak to Brock shortly, and I'll take you home. " 

" Yes. " She answered absent mindedly.

" Perry … " She suddenly turned to him, and stopped him from walking further. He took her hands, pressing them to his chest, and looked into her pale face. He was worried. 

" What is it, Della? "

" It's the dress. " 

" What about the dress ? "

" He said he didn't send it. "

" I know. " 

" You do? " She looked at him quizically.

" Yes. " He nodded. " That's what I asked Paul to find out about. Nardone's son said his father did send the roses, but he didn't make nor send this dress. What about the dress, Della? What did he know about it ? Did he know who made it? Did he say who sent it to you? "

" That is apparently not the important question, Perry. " 

" Then what is the important question ? "

" He said the colour of the dress is important. " 

" The colour of the dress? " He frowned his brows, and tightened his grip on her hands when he felt her hands were colder than before. 

" Perry ? " She shook her head, her gaze searching his face for clues that weren't there. 

" Della? " 

" He also asked me how well I know Frank Halloran … "


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for TCOT Maligned Mobster!

The thin, early Sunday morning sun threw some unwelcome light into his slowly opening red eyes. His back, his shoulders and his right knee yelled at him, the lounge chair in the bedroom had of course not given him the proper bearing for his overnight dozing.

He struggled to stand up, stretched himself out, and walked a few hesitating steps, straightening his back and legs with a painful grimace on his pale face. He longed for her soft and warm hands, that could have and would have worked their magic on his tight muscles, had she been here. But she wasn't.

She had left Fridaynight, just a few minutes after they had spoken to Mr. Nardone at his white hospital bed. Mason had not understood why she had left in such a hurry shortly afterwards, but he had not asked questions. Well, he had. But they had been left unanswered.

Now this had happened before, in fact, it did happen once or twice every year that she fled without telling him why. But unlike this time, he used to be able to see it coming through her altering behaviour. Usually, she'd start to become silent and thoughtful. Then she'd withdraw from him, she would avoid his gaze, his carresssings, and when his worry about her would start to show, she'd say she'd need some time on her own. Then she usually went away for a while, on her own, for a couple of hours, for a few days, or a whole week.

In the past he'd had trouble to understand, and he couldn't get used to it, partly since he thought it was because of him that she left. But along the years he had learned that it was just her own way of dealing with life's awkward twists and turns. It was her private nature, she just needed time on her own to be able to cope. He had also learned that her time spent alone always purified her, made her stronger and more beautiful than she already was.

When she'd come back, she'd be her own self again, but more easy, her voice steadier, her eyes brighter, her smile more dazzling. And he'd love her even more, which left him astounded sometimes, because he thought that that wasn't possible.

Most of the times, she didn't tell him where she went. Thank God, she had told him this time, and he knew she would stay at her friend Janice's place, so he had been able to speak to her there just a few hours ago. And, thank God, she had agreed and had allowed Lieutenant Brock to take her to the police station to stay there, at least for this night. Annoying as it was, there was no safer place for her to be right now.

Brock's words that had brought this on, kept hammering through Perry's tired mind.

 _" Mr. Frank Halloran has just escaped from prison, Mason … Where is your Miss? We have reasons to believe she is in danger. "_  

He sighed and sat down again, elbows on knees, his face in his hands.

Now 'his Miss' was in a bed, in a police cell, possibly and hopefully, asleep and safe. And he was here, in their bedroom, their house, surrounded by police officers, there was even a sergeant inside the house.

Perry was not asleep, because he didn't want to be, and probably couldn't be. He didn't feel like trying anyway, not even for the second night now. During the last two nights, he had sat in the same chair by the bed room window, and had watched the bed every now and then, to see if he had been dreaming, but it was very empty, everytime he looked at it. Both sides neatly made, like she had left it.

He rubbed his eyes, yawning, sighing, contemplating on what had happened, again. He grumbled angrily, because this was about Frank Halloran, again. The unfortunate man used to be a great lawyer and had been a very close friend for a very long time. They had grown up together, had studied law together, even had had plans to start a practice together, before they specialized differently and had decided not to join eachother.

In their younger days, as students, they had hit the towns, fooling around, dancing, drinking, taking advantage of their young and invincible handsomeness to drive women and themselves crazy. That was long before Frank had married his Victoria of course, and equally long before Perry Mason himself had discovered that the unfamiliar but delirious spell he was under was put on him by the beautiful fay that was Della Street.

Throughout the years, Frank's practice specialized in corporate law, and Perry became a well respected and succesful criminal defense lawyer. Somehow, but obviously, Frank and Perry gradually grew apart, their different notions about fairness and pushing the boundaries of the law had caused serious and long discussions between them in the end. Perry had accused Frank more than once of being on the corrupt side, while Frank had complained about Perry's psychological disability to defend guilty clients. When Frank had finally decided to work for the mafia family Sorrento exclusively, Perry had withdrawn from him. They had only spoken politely to eachother occasionnally and briefly.

Then, Perry had taken a murder case last year, because Frank had asked him to do it, for old time's sake.

" Frank … " He said it out loud, aware of the fact that there was no one to hear him. " … you bloody fool … " Because at the end of that particular murder case, it had turned out, Frank Halloran himself was the murderer. During that case, last year, as a sad derivative of their differences, Frank Halloran had indeed shot him, with the intention to kill. After Perry had revealed this in court, and Frank was taken away into custody, it had taken him some time to come to terms with the permanent loss of a good friendship.

But he had dealt with it. He had wanted to move on. And so had Della. So why was she so very bothered now Frank Halloran's name was mentioned ? What had Mr. Nardone asked her about Frank ? And what else had he said to make her so upset?

The short conversation between Della and him, in the hall way in front of the glass doors, just before Ed Brock had disturbed them, kept replaying in his mind.

_" Frank Halloran? What about him ? "_

_" Nardone just asked me how well I knew him … " Her voice was soft, her eyes wide with something that resembled fear. Panic._

_"_ _So? " He pressed her cold hands to his chest._

_" How does he know Frank, Perry? "_

_" Well, Della, you know Frank worked for a lot of companies, and also for several mobster's families, in New York, Chicago, and in Denver for the Sorrento's. He used to be famous for his 'deals', remember? He even used to have Big Paul Castellano as a client, and as I recall, Big Paul was a friend of Nardone's father. "_

_" I … " She put a hand to her chest._

_" What else did he ask you, Della? "_

_" He asked me about this dress, he wanted to know where we went tonight … " Della stopped talking and shook her head, obviously in deep thought._

_" Let's do this at home, baby. Let's talk to Brock first, and I'll take you home. "_

_She hesitated, touching the back of her hair. It was a gesture that clearly showed how very uncomfortable she felt. " I'm … I'm not going home with you, Perry … "_

_" What ? Why not? " His eyes displayed his utter disbelief._

_" I have to sort some things out … about … this … ehm … situation. "_

_" What situation ? What happened in there with Nardone, Della ? "_

_" Nothing, I just need some time … Can you give me that ? "_

_" Now? But if it was nothing, why can't you just talk to me? "_

_" There is nothing to talk about, Perry, I just need to think … "_

_" Della? " He leaned foreward, and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. But he couldn't read her._

_"_ _Trust me. " She put her hand to his chest, and reached out to kiss him._

_" No. " He moved his head to the side, and snorted. " I mean, yes, I do trust you, of course I do, but I need to know what is going on … "_

_" Perry, just give me time and I … "_

_" No. " He interrupted. It wasn't a negation, it was a plea. " I need to understand, Della. "_

_" I'll tell you as soon as I understand myself. " Her low voice was firm now. " I'm going to ask one of Brock's men to take me to Janice. "_

_" To Janice? At two in the morning? Della … "_

_"_ _I'll call you, Perry. " She swallowed hard. " Soon. Just give me time … "_

_At that moment, Ed Brock finally made it through the thorough interrogation and the glass doors. He stopped Della. Visibly annoyed by the way Nardone's bodyguards had treated him, he fumbled with his fingers and scratched the back of his neck. " Miss Street, we need your dress. " He said gruffly._

_" My dress, Lieutenant? "_

_" Yes, we need your dress. We need to take it to the station for examination at the forensics department. "_

_" Well, you can't now, can you? "_

_Brock looked at her quizically. " And why's that, Miss Street? "_

_Her eyes narrowed at him. She sighed deeply, and inhaled. " Because, Lieutenant, I don't have anything to wear in stead. "_

_" Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Ma'am. Could you make sure we get it as soon as possible? "_

_" You'll have it early tomorrow morning … "_

_" Thank you, Miss Street. Now, Mason … " Brock turned and wanted to say something, but stopped at the sight of the man in front of him._

_" Mason? "_

_But Perry Mason just stood still, pursing his lips, in loss of words. His brows frowned until they touched and formed one line on his forehead, while he watched Della running away from whatever she was running away from. He swore inwardly._

_" Where is she going ? " Brock followed his gaze._

_" I don't know. " Perry lied._

_" Something wrong, couns'lor? " Brock queried._

_" Yes. " He said thruthfully. "_

_Perry ? " Cheerful as always, Paul Drake junior made his way into the hall way, without being stopped by the body guards. " I thought I'd find you here … " "_

_Get lost, Paul. " It was a real grunt._

_" But I've got … " Paul started his sentence, and then finished it silently, as he watched Perry Mason walk away from him " … news about the fabric of the dress … "_

_" Tell Brock. I'll talk to you tomorrow. "_

 

The Saturday that followed his first sleepless night had been a drag. Paul Drake had come to tell him that the heavy silk red fabric of the dress was purchased at an Indian tailor in New York City. It was paid for in cash, and the customer had not wanted a receipt.

Brock had taken Della's red dress to forensics, but they had not found anything suspicious, and so the dress had been brought to the house to wait for its owner.

Mason had spent the rest of the day going through the carefully stored files and neatly typed out notes about the case of Lauren Jeffreys, and the ones from Frank Halloran's case to see if there were any clues there. Other than that, he had had absolutely no idea where to start investigating either the attack on Nardone, or the sender of the dress.

Every now and then, he had picked up the phone to dial Janice's number, just to hear if Della was there, and to ask if she was all right. He had stopped himself in time, she would phone him herself.

Would she?

He had fallen asleep on the couch, just moments before Ed Brock stood on his doorstep for the second time within twenty-four hours. This time to tell him the news about the escape of Frank, and why they had to find Miss Street quickly.

Perry remembered the flash lights of the police car that had followed him driving to Janice's house. He thought about the way he had knocked on the front door as a madman, and Janice's incredulous face when she had opened the door to him. And then, Della's fragile posture, avoiding his gaze. And his sigh of relief, she was there, she was all right.

She had approached him, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and glared at the police car behind him.

_" I said I would call you, Perry … " She said softly, tilting her head to the side._

_" I'm not here to argue about that. " His voice was very low as he spoke slowly. He had rehearsed the sentences on his way here, to make sure she could not detect his worry instantly. " I don't care how much time you need to think, you can take alI the time you need, baby, but I need you to do it in a safer place. Janice's place is not safe enough now. I need you to pack your things, and get into that police car over there. "_

_She shook her head._

_" Listen to me … " He stated firmly. " You have to stay in a police cell tonight, and sleep there. It's much safer. " "_

_Why? " She said under her breath._

_" Frank Halloran has escaped from prison. "_

She had stared at him, just nodded, and had gone inside Janice's house again. He had softly declined her offer to come in with her, and had strongly fought the urge to sweep her up in his arms when she had come out again. Her shaking had become more clear to him when she had hugged Janice goodbye and had stepped past him to climb into the police car.

He had recognized this tremble. It had been a sign of fear, but he had known better than to touch her at that moment. He believed she would be back soon, and yes, he would hold her thoroughly and long when she would.

So, just seven hours ago he had persuaded her to go to the police station and sleep there, and now, he allowed himself to doze off a little, ignoring the fact that he was sitting in an impossible chair. His breathing steadied slowly.

The past days' confusing atmospheres came to him, in merely sensations now. Some fear, awkardness, surprise, her beauty in a classic red dress. The flashing lights of the police car were evidently predominating in a strange way.

Suddenly becoming aware, he opened his eyes in an instant and narrowed them. The flashing lights were real.

Concentrating on the sounds in the house, he heard a soft female voice speaking to the police man on the other side of the bedroom door.

He sighed a deep breath, a mixture of relief and tiredness. The door of the bedroom silently opened and closed again, yet her scent and the soft rustle of her clothes had already washed over him seconds before she came in.

" Perry ? "

He lifted his eyes to hers as she sat down at the window sill in front of him. Her face showed lack of sleep, strain, her frowning brows told him how tensed she was. A very familiair determination shone through. " We need to talk. "

So, she had come back to him, and it had taken her twenty-nine hours and eightteen minutes this time.

And yes, he did love her more then before, and again he was astounded, because he had thought it wasn't possible.


	6. Chapter 6

He took a deep breath, but didn't move. His tired eyes took in her form, she hugged herself firmly, in the way he would do that later on.

" We do need to talk, yes. " He shifted in his chair a little. " Does Brock know that you left the police station ? "

" Yes, he does. " She shrugged. " He didn't want me to leave, but I told them I needed to go home and when they didn't allow me, I just … "

" … caused a scene ? " He finished her sentence, smiling at her.

She laughed softly with him. " Yes. And then they didn't want me to take a taxi, and insisted on bringing me here in a police car. " She blew out a breath, and whispered. " Well, where do I start? "

" Wherever you want … " He watched her carefully. " Do you need anything? Tea? "

" No. " She shook her head firmly, held it with both hands, sighing deeply. " When you went to San Francisco to be a judge there, you know Frank Halloran offered me a job at his law office. "

" Yes. You told me. "

" I also told you I refused, because I knew that he worked for the mafia, and that his business was for fifty percent financed by the mob. His turnover and profit came from sources I did not want to be involved with."

" Yes. I know. "

" And so, I declined. " She swallowed, stood up from the window sill and started to pace through their bedroom. " And he was angry, because I turned down his offer, that was quite generous really. "

" I know. I remember that. "

" And you know he didn't want to talk to me for a while. And that he was very rude to me, and started to spread rumours about me … "

" Yes. "

" So, I started working for Gordon Industries and left Frank to his own devices. I kind of forgot about what happened and moved on. After a few months he contacted me again, and he wanted to come over to L.A. to talk over dinner about what had happened. He said he wasn't his old self, he said he was still devastated because of Victoria's death, and that he wanted to make up for his behaviour towards me. He was sorry. "

" Yes, I remember that. You said he had made reservations at this expensive French restaurant at Rodeo Drive … "

" Yes. And he picked me up in a limousine … "

" What ? He did ? " He gave her an incredulous look.

" I didn't tell you before about the limousine ? "

" No." He pouted playfully.

She grinned. " I felt like … like a queen ... " she mused. Her shoulders relaxed, a small smile played in the corners of her lips. The lines on her face slowly softened. He marveled at her and smiled a dimpled smile, she just had no idea how incredibly beautiful she was. " We actually had a good time, Perry, he had a bottle of champaign on board, we toasted the future. " The smile left her face as she sighed, " I guess I should have known then … "

" Known what … ? "

Della shook her head, as if to silence him.

The big man nodded, tilted his head and listened.

" Dinner was nice, he told me about some of his cases and the way he had handled life so far. He told me about his children, his grandchildren, about his new home and how he missed Victoria. How he missed a woman in his life. How he missed company. "

" Ah. " Mason nodded.

" Yes. Mmm-mmm. " She nodded with him. " I didn't really pay attention to what he said exactly, because I just didn't … I don't really know why. I guess I knew what he was talking about … missing someone important … "

He reached out for her, holding out his hand and she took it in one swift movement, without thought. She watched him as he gently kissed her fingers.

" He was a gentleman all the way, Perry. We danced a little, we had a real divine dinner, we talked, it was nice. " She watched their hands together. " He brought me home in the limousine, helped me to step out of it, walked me to the frontdoor, kissed me on the cheek, and let me go inside. "

" Alone? "

" Yes. Alone. "

Closing his eyes at his own mistrust, he felt her hand slip out of his.

" We kept in contact, we had dinner or lunch every once in a while and then about two months later, he phoned me to ask if I wanted to go with him to his second home, near Denver, for a long weekend. "

" His second home … Might that be a familiar getaway ? "

" Yes. The same one we went to together last week. " She looked away from him, drew circles on the window sill with her right hand and watched the movements. " The first night we were there, he cooked for me, my favourite dinner. And after dinner, he went down on his knees … and pulled out a diamond ring … "

He cleared his throat, and wanted to say something, but silenced as she put a soft hand on his arm. " He proposed to me, Perry … " She gauged his reaction intensely.

" Well, you declined, obviously. " His gaze was thoughtful.

She nodded. " It was embarassing really. He thought I was in love with him too, I apparantly gave him that impression. And at the same time, I thought we were just good friends, having a good time, so I was just nice to him, talked to him about the things that were important to me. But I stayed in the bedroom on the other side of the house, he didn't make any moves to kiss me, or well, I just never noticed. Later I realised I had missed out on all the clues, all the signs I should have seen before, that showed very clearly that he was in love with me. "

" When I thought about it afterwards, I recognized them in retrospect, you know, the little gestures, the way he smiled at me, the way he held my arm, the way he held me when we danced, the way he introduced me to his business partners. I guess I was just to blind to see. " She turned to him, as he stood up. " I guess I wasn't receptive to these kind of advances. Well, not from him anyway … "

He pursed his lips in the way she loved so dearly, so deeply. She reached out for his face, and touched his cheek softly. Then she directed her gaze to the window sill again. " So we talked about it, I explained and I said I was sorry that I had given him the wrong impression, and he said he understood. I decided I wanted to go home. I thought it was too uncomfortable to stay. And so I left. "

The silence that followed allowed him to take in what she had just told him. Basically, she had told him nothing that was worth fleeing for, like the way she had for more than a whole day. So, there had to be more.

He reached out for her, and she accepted his embrace, laying her head on his chest, while he put his chin on her soft tousled hair.

" What else happened, Della ? "

Shaking her head, she pulled away from him again. " He kissed me when I left that day. "

He stared at her, expecting to be hurt, expecting there was more to come." And … ? " _What is it, Della? What the hell is it? What's wrong ?_

" And nothing. " She shrugged. " Well … "

" Damn it, Della, talk to me. " It was meant to sound playful, but the way the words left his mouth, their tone held a desperate edge. " What happened ? "

She sighed. " At one point there were pictures taken of us, Perry, exactly that night. Outside, at the exact moment he kissed me, before I stepped into the taxi. "

_Ah._

A knowing smile tugged at his lips, but he straightened his face before she could notice. " So, there are pictures of Frank Halloran kissing you at his second home, in Denver, in what, 1978? " He used one of his courtroomvoices, the one she called the 'stating-the-facts-voice'.

" Yes. So … "

" So? "

" Two nights ago, Nardone wanted to talk to me alone, remember ? "

" Yes. "

" He knew about those pictures, Perry. He said … " She shook her head, " … no, he asked me if there was something that could be used against me, to blackmail me. And I said 'no', and then he asked me about the pictures with me and Frank Halloran on them. " Recognizing the tightening of Perry's jaws, she shook her head again. " No Perry, Nardone meant well. He just said I had to make sure to tell you about them, to make sure I could not be blackmailed with these pictures in any possible way. He said he thought that someone in the near future was planning to do so. Now, Nardone didn't say why, he didn't say what he knew exactly, he just said I had to be prepared. And that he wanted to talk to us together later. " She watched his face thoughtfully. " He believed you didn't know about Frank and me, and these pictures, that's why he wanted to talk to me alone first. I do still believe Nardone had the right intentions, Perry. "

" So, was this why you left ? " He queried.

" Yes. I wanted to get to Janice's place as soon as possible. You know she still has a couple of boxes at her house with some of the things I took with me from Los Angeles when we moved here. She still keeps them at her attic. I wanted to search for those pictures, to see if there was anything on them, that I missed before. "

" And have you found the pictures? " _And when did you receive them ?_

" Yes. They were still there. "

" And ? "

" I watched them, and I just couldn't detect anything I hadn't seen before. I asked Janice to keep them, so I could talk to you first, and maybe watch them together. "

" And that is what's been bothering you? These pictures? "

" Well, yes, no, not completely, but Perry, don't you see what I mean? When I was looking at the pictures, I thought about Frank's proposal, I remembered the way he acted around me. I realized that one of the reasons Frank shot you last year, was because of me. " Her gaze was fierce with anger and something that resembled despair. " You remember what he said in court, Perry, he said he believed you weren't good, you were just lucky? "

" Yes, I recall that. "

" That was also because of me. "

Mason shrugged. " I know. Of course it was about you. I believed that all along. I always knew that one of the reasons why he shot me, was you, the life we have together, the way we work together, the love we share. He was envious, Della. I knew that. I assumed you knew too. I guess I should stop assuming … " His blue stare took her in, while he did his best not to sound as if he was questioning her as a witness on the stand " So, is that all? "

She gasped and watched him. " Is that all? Perry, isn't that enough ? "

" I thought you were going to tell me, that … "

" That what? That Frank and I were lovers? " She rolled her eyes. " Oh God, you're so … "

" What ? "

" Nothing. " She sighed deeply, and brought her hands to her face. " I wish I could stop thinking for a while, but I wish I knew what the colour of the dress has to do with anything that happened, Frank Halloran, why Nardone was attacked, the pictures, everything. "

" What you should do, is sleep now … " He held her shoulders and pulled her to him to kiss her forehead.

" I haven't slept a wink last night at the police station. " She laughed despite herself. " I guess you're right. Maybe I should get some sleep. "

When she came back from the bathroom, he stood at her bedside in his robe, and pulled up the covers for her to climb into the bed.

" Don't leave me now. " A delicate hand reached out for his, and brushed his fingers. " Come to bed, Perry … You should get some sleep too … "

He inhaled and watched the ceiling, as if he was hesitating. " No, I have some phonecalls to make first, and then I'll come back to you here. "

" Phonecalls? At seven in the morning? " She narrowed her eyes.

" It's nine o'clock in New York now. "

" Perry … "

" Mmm? "

" It's Sunday. "

" There is no rest for the wicked, Della. "

" You're not wicked … "

" You don't really know, do you? You don't know what I have been doing yesterday, while I was here on my own. " He pouted playfully.

" I love you, Perry. I'm sorry. "

He moved his broad body onto the matrass and towards her, to kiss her sweetly. " Don't be sorry, Della. Just make sure you're here when I come back. " He brushed his lips to her forehead, smiling when he heard her breathing steady. She was sleeping already.

####

He grabbed his cane from his home office desk, the pain in his knee was subsiding, but it was still there when he entered the small library next to his home office. He put on his glasses, silently humouring himself about the devices he needed nowadays to be able to read and to walk. His fingers danced over the dossiers that were stored away in alphabetical order in his private cabinet where they held private correspondence, from clients, friends, colleagues from university, and fellow judges he knew from San Francisco.

As his fingers walked over the dossiers, the memories about the cases and the people that were involved in them entered and left his mind quickly. Some of them causing a broad smile onto his face, and some causing a slight frown. Jack Barnett, David Berman, the case he had handled in Paris. Benson, he smiled at that one extensively, recalling the recalcitrant, but oh so sweet young lady Melanie Benson. A bit further, he found the next dossiers, of David and Judy Katz, Kenneth Malansky, Glenn Robertson, and there it was: Johnny Sorrento. The murdercase in which Frank Halloran himself turned out to be the killer. Mason pulled out the manilla envelope from the Sorrento dossier, and watched it for a long time, tapping it with his index finger. He had never taken all the photo's out completely, nor had he watched them very thoroughly. He had registered them, not willing to draw conclusions, not thinking it was necessary to do so. He had just put them away immediately when they had come in. Now could be a good time to look at them, just to see if he had missed out on something, if there was something that could shed some light over the last days events, Della's flight, her red dress, Frank Halloran's escape, the attack on Nardone.

The pictures were printed in black and white, some had been tampered with obviously, but some hadn't. On some of them, Frank and Della were seated at the terrace on the backside of the house, next to the lake side. They smiled at eachother, but there were no intimate gestures on any of the pictures. Except for the last three pictures, taken on the night of Della's departure, on which Frank kissed Della Street with more passion and desire than she visibly could and wanted to handle.

Perry watched these last three pictures one by one, taking in Frank's facial expressions, Della's ways, her gestures. Her smile wasn't genuine on all of them. Frank Halloran's smile had this almost invisible possessive edge, yet the well trained eyes of Perry Mason recognized it. On the pictures that displayed the kiss that shouldn't have happened, Frank's hands were on her upperarms and held her a bit too tight to be gentle and meant well. Della's hands were on his chest, pushing him away, her face in a frown that resembled disgust.

Perry shivered and recognized the front door of the private getaway. The same getaway Frank Halloran had given him the keys to, just a couple of weeks ago. So, since this particular picture was taken in 1978, it was safe to conclude Frank had had this second home for a long time. Why had he given it to Perry, just like that ? Why did someone take pictures of them together ?

He shrugged and snorted. He had never known she had these pictures too, she had never told him, as he never had told her he had them. He had never asked her questions about them, had never felt the urge to know about her and Frank, because he knew it had happened at a moment he had not been at her side, while he should have been.

And now that he did know, there was no need to keep them here, not here, not in their home.

Feeling the urge to banish the thought of Della's possible relationship with Frank Halloran forever, he took a decision. " Oh yes, Frank. I am lucky. " He whispered in a very low voice. He slowly tore the pictures into pieces and threw the shreds into the fire place, and held a lit match next to them until they caught fire " … but I'm also very good … "

" Are you all right, Mr. Mason? " The sergeant's voice startled Perry.

" Yes, I am. Thank you. " His gaze was still directed to the flames. He turned to the sergeant, when he started to speak again.

" Is Miss Street okay, sir ? "

" Yes, she's sleeping now. "

" Fine, sir. I heard she hasn't slept at all at the police station. "

Mason snorted. " I'm not surprised. "

" I'm going outside to watch the house with my colleagues. We've got it all covered, Mr. Mason. "

" Thank you, sergeant. " Walking back to the bedroom slowly, Mason watched photo's, hanging framed on the wall, a lot of them in black and white. One of the smaller pictures was taken by a journalist, in court, after a harrowing case about a passionate crime, known as the Wyman case. The widower of a young woman had confessed he had killed his wife when he had found out she had had an affair with another man.

On this particular photo, Della looked straight into the camera, and smiled a little smile, while his gaze was directed to her, and revealed a certain emotion which he later recognized as deep fascination and love. This particular photo was here, in their house now, because it was taken shortly before the first time they had finally given in to the temptation that had haunted them for months.

Smiling at the memory, he remembered the feeling of the soft fabric of the pink blouse she had worn that day. As if he could have that sensation again, he gently touched the picture.

_It were her gazes, her short looks, thrown at him every now and then, followed by a sigh or a blush._

_He knew about them, because the feeling was as mutual as it was secret, hidden. Yet, he was very careful not to blush or sigh when he was fascinated or overwhelmed by her appearance, a touch, or by just one of her small gestures. At that particular moments, he had trained himself to look away from her, to blow out a breath, or light a cigarette to hide his admiration, and so much more._

_It wasn't the famous boss-employee boundary they both knew they were about to cross sometime in the very near future, it was the thin, fragile line between very close friends becoming lovers. He had crossed that line before in the past with a fellow criminal defense lawyer, by the name of Laura Martin. It had resulted in a very unhealthy relationship based on possessive jealousy and competition. It had started so very promising, hot-tempered and heart-felt, but afterwards, when the flames had quenched, they had never been able to return to the inspiring, at times cosy comradeship they used to have. He had found it such a waste and such a shame. And he didn't want to go there again at the age of thirty-one._

_The word 'careful' didn't even begin to describe the way he had to approach this. That was why it had taken him so very long to finally give in. Because he knew when he would, there would be no turning back._

_After the Wyman case, they had not returned to the office, but had picked up some Chinese food to have it at her appartment. Though the case had been heartbreaking, they had found a way to laugh about it, and talked some more, joked, mused about the future._

_The food had been okay, but the conversation was better and the company was swell._

_They sat on the floor in her living room, the remains of their dinner on the coffee table, as they sipped the cheap chinese wine, with their backs against the couch. This position had given him the perfect position to watch her relax her long legs every now and then. He didn't want to leave her, but he forced himself to, just after a quick look on the clock had told him it was ten o'clock already._

_Time to leave._

_He turned to support himself on the couch to stand up._

_But then she suddenly asked the question. " Would you really want to know if your wife had a one night affair with someone else? I mean, would you want her to tell you? If Mr. Wyman had not found out in the way he did, Mrs. Wyman would still be alive. Maybe she should have just told him."_

_He was silent and held his breath too long._

Yes, Della. I would need to hear it from you. _The thought entered his mind in the same speed as it left. Yet he noticed it._

_He didn't say a word, he just watched Della's sculptured face, her glittering tired eyes. She smiled an insecure smile, and combed through her hair with her slender fingers, in the way he had wanted to do that for months now._

_He took her hand from her hair and watched it silently. Then he sought for her eyes, but she continued to look down at the carpet._

_"_ _I guess I would want to know. " He said in a low voice._

_She shook her head. " I'm not sure I would want to know. "_

_" It's quite personal … " He moved closer to her._

_" Mmm-mmm. " She breathed, watching him from under her lashes._

_" Dangerous … " He leaned further forwards._

_" Mmm-mmm. " Her fingers touched his cheek, feeling the stubbles there._

_" Inevitable … " Even this slight touch of her fingertips on the skin of his face aroused him, made him stop thinking, while he should control himself. His pulse quickened._

_"_ _That too. " It was a whisper, leaving her lips._

_Closing his eyes, he decided to give in, and brushed her lips with his. The first kiss was featherlight, it didn't even happen, the second was really there, and the third was the fourth was the fifth was the sixth, as he stroked his hand down to her waist and moved, never losing contact with her luscious lips as they sank down, leasurely slowly along the front of the couch, landing on the carpet softly, molding themselves, until he was on top of her completely. Face to face now, kissing deeply, and yes, all of him displaying the urgent desire that was not supposed to be there, but was given room now and opportunity._

_She felt his tongue to her lips and opened them to allow him to taste her, then gasped when he entered her mouth fiercely. He moved firmly, but slowly, as if all his pent up desire was about to surface, yet still controlled. And more welcome than he dared to believe at that moment. While she wrapped her arms around his neck, the unconsciousness caught them both and led his hand from her waist down to her hip, up to her breast, as his mouth brushed her neck in soft teasing nuzzlings, and finally tasted the creamy soft skin there with his tongue. She moaned softly, sighed, moved with him._

_One hand next to her on the floor to support his weight, his free hand roamed down over her hip down to her thigh to her knee to her calf to push her leg upwards and caress the firmness of it against his own thigh. Caught in the cradle of her hips now, his hand traveled upwards and he cupped the back of her head to kiss her deeply, their tongues clashing together. Her hips moved as if by their own record towards his, creating a maddening sensation. They sighed in the same rythm, a slow low sound that resembled a moan left her lips. Or his. Her tickling fingers running through his hair spurred him on, his hand stroked her side as his lips found the lace border of her bra at her cleavage, and he tore at it with his teeth, his breath hot and arousing on her sensitive skin. He breathed heavily, as very inappropriate thoughts entered and left his mind, in the same rapid speed of her breathing, yet, he stopped when the hem of her skirt was underneath the palm of his hand._

_Panting, he watched her face, her opening eyes, as his gaze was drawn to her heaving chest. " Della … " He swallowed hard. " My dear … Della … good grief … "_

_"_ _What ? " She panted softly, and smiled a soft seductive smile._

_" Am I sorry? Should I be sorry? "_

_She chuckled, very aware of the position they were in, feeling the fervent proof of his desire tantalizing hers. She was not ready to leave this position yet._

_" I don't know, do you want to be ? "_

_" No. " He sighed._

_" Then, don't be sorry … But … "_

_" But… ? "_

_" If you're not staying, you really have to go now. " She brushed his cheek with her fingers._

_" I'm not staying … " But he kissed her, plucking at her bottomlip with his teeth, slowly and sultry. He kissed her again, sought for her tongue again and danced with it, eliciting moans from deep within himself, and the woman underneath him. His hands traveled everywhere at the same time, while she moved underneath him to have a better position to do what she was about to do. She didn't even realize she had wrapped her legs around his, when he breathed her name again._

_" Della … "_

_" Having second thoughts ? "_

_He snickered against the soft skin of her neck, as his hands held her face close to his. Pulling back a little, he watched her glooming glittering eyes with his own, heavy-lidded with desire, and he struggled to steady his breathing. " It's the first thoughts I have to get rid of now … " he said in a low voice._

_This made her laugh out loud. " The first thoughts, mmm? "_

_" I'm not half the gentle man I promised myself to be … "_

_She pursed her lips and laughed low and sultry. He grinned at her. " You can be a gentle man the next time … "_

_" The next time? " He gave her a boyish smile._

_" Well, this might be the first time, but I don't think it's the last time. "_

_He moaned._

_" It was a matter of time, Perry … " She said seriously._

_" Yes. "_

_" Still, if you're not staying, you have to go. Now. " "_

_I'm leaving … " He kissed her lips._

_" Perry … " She put her hands on his chest, clutched his shirt, but pushed him up. It seemed a deliriously confusing gesture, but it was very clear to him. He felt exactly the same. " Go now … "_

_It was not the way she closed the frontdoor behind him when he left. It was the way she opened it again, a few minutes afterwards, staring at him while he was still standing there in the same position, breathing heavily, his arms stretched forward, hands on the doorframe. He had not been able to leave yet. Not physically, and not psychologically._

_So, she looked into his darkened eyes, and smashed all his reserves to pieces, when she croaked out. " I have serious trouble to get rid of the first thoughts too … "_

_The two steps he took towards her at that moment, were the most important in his life._

 

He woke up to the feeling of cool, soft fingertips, tracing his brows, touching his forehead and temple.

" You know I hate to be watched when I'm not watching. " He opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids heavy from just two hours of much more needed sleep.

She sat beside him on the bed, legs curled up underneath her. " I thought that depends on who is watching you … " She smiled thoughtfully. Her voice was soft, but relaxed. Sleep had apparently soothed her, like it had him.

" What time is it? "

" Eleven. Perry? "

" Mmmmm? "

" When did you receive the pictures? " She asked, lingering her fingers from his jaw down to his chest.

" Right after the Sorrento trial last year … On the day Frank Halloran was brought up in court. " He said to her softly.

" And why did you just burn them ? " She straightened her hands on his massive chest, fiddling her fingers through his grey chest hair.

" I thought I had kept them hidden long enough. I felt the need to destroy them. " He took her left hand from his chest and kissed it. She pulled away and stood up from the bed, wrapping her robe around her.

" Do you believe me when I say nothing happened between Frank and me? "

" Yes. " He said matter of factly.

" Why ? "

" Why wouldn't I, Della ? " He watched her seriously. " And what's the alternative? I can not not trust you, baby, I can not not believe you. I love you. "

She hugged herself, and looked the other way, then sought his eyes. " Do you know I love you? "

" I do. "

" You do know I have never loved anyone like I love you. "

" I do. " His voice was hoarse.

" And I have never desired anyone like I desire you. " She said in a choking voice.

" I know. " The words were soundless, as he held out his hand to her. " And now it's your turn to come back to bed … "

" Don't you want to have breakfast yet ? " She sniffed and straightened her composure.

" I don't want breakfast, I want you. " He reached out for her again. " Come here, you. "

Pursing her lips, laughing low and sultry, she took his hand, and allowed him to pull her on top of him. He grabbed her waist, turned to the side and lay her down alongside his body. He tapped her nose gently with his index finger. " You all but killed me, Della Street, turning away from me like that. " She started to answer but he cut her off, seizing her mouth with his own, his tongue demanding and skillful as he opened her lips forcefully, and she responded with the same passion.

" I did it before, Perry, and I always come back. " She said, catching her breath, lingering moments later.

" I know. It's just … " he kissed her lips again.

" … you're afraid one day I won't? "

" No. But usually I can see it coming … "

" It came … quite unexpectedly for me too. I guess I panicked because Nardone knew about those pictures … I had kind of forgotten about them myself. "

" We'll talk to Nardone later today. I want to know why he mentioned the pictures to you, and I want to know what all this has to do with Frank Halloran and your beauty in a beautiful red dress. " Mason pulled her against him again. " But first I need to find out more about you … "

" About me? Don't you think you know everything about me already ? "

" Well, you had some hidden pictures, maybe you have some more, secrets, dreams … "

" Dreams, mmm? Well, I did notice you had some pleasant dreams just now… " She gave her head a tilt, cocked one eyebrow and pursed her lips.

" Ah. " His low voice was impossibly low when he moved his face closer to hers. " They were about you, baby … "

" I noticed that too … You were quite uhm … vocal … and physical too … "

" Oh, dear … " He leaned his forehead against hers, and breathed deeply.

Stroking his beard with both hands, she smiled in advance. " Having second thoughts again? "

He burst into laughter. " I only have first thoughts when it involves you, you should know that by now … "

" Welllll … actually, you never told me what your first thoughts were back then, or what they are now … "

" That's because they don't come in words, my dear, they merely consist of sensations … "

" Oh, do they? "

" Oh yes. And you do know some of them already ... have known them for a very long time now … " he murmured to her ear. " Like this … " this elicited a deep moan from her lips " … and like this … " He opened the front of her gown, and roamed his hands over warm skin.

" Wait until I tell you about my first thoughts … " Her hands travelled downwards to his groin, while she wiggled her form seductively underneath his.

A low grunt rumbled through his chest. " Della Street … my baby … "

She brought her arms up again and wrapped them around his neck, while she chuckled softly to his ear.

He grinned and pulled up the blankets to cover them both completely. Her load laughter transformed into a gasp, followed by a deep moan, when he completely unannounced and unexpectedly took a breast into his mouth, and sucked gently, while his hand moved downwards over the soft, warm skin of her stomach towards her inner thighs.

She lifted the covers and pulled his face up to hers " Is that a first thought or a second ? " she whispered to his lips.

" I'll tell you when I'm able to think again … "

=TBC-


	7. Chapter 7

It took them some time to reach the secluded wing where the private hospital room of Vicento Nardone was located. Reporters from every newspaper and magazine in the city had found their way into the hallway, anxious for the slighest bit of news or a glimpse of the famous mafioso. For a lack of excitement and news from Nardone, the reporters and photograhers yelled questions and took pictures of Mr. Mason and Miss Street, as they made their way through the crowd in front of the glass doors that seperated the busy hospital lobby from the hall way leading up to the private rooms.

" Mr. and Mrs. Mason are here to see Vicento … " They were stopped by two impressively big body guards, as their arrival was announced through walkie-talkies.

" Come with me, pronto … " One of the two big men waved at them, and lead the way through the glass doors. " I'll check if he can see you now. " Quickly he opened the door to the room and yelled. " Sono arrivati … "

" Eh? "

" Mr. and Mrs. Mason. "

" It's actually Miss … " Perry tried as the door closed in front of them, but Della laid a hand on his chest to stop him. " I do know they are referring to me, really. " She tilted her head slightly. " Truth is, Perry, I do like the sound of it. "

" Oh. " Invisible from the crowd now, he thought it safe to look down at her lovingly, and press a tender kiss to her forehead. " You do? " From the look he gave her, she saw the joke coming. " Having second thoughts about something, Miss Street ? "

" Oh, you … " Her throaty laughter sounded all the way through the hall way to the entrance, where the bodyguards turned. " No. " But she leaned her head sidewards momentarily resting it on his broad shoulder.

Seconds later, the door to the private room swung open, and they were invited to walk inside. Vicento Nardone, obviously feeling much better, sat by the window in a wheelchair, his dark suit a sharp contrast to the crisp white shirt. The bitter, thick white smoke of his cigar crinkled through the air, as Nardone was obviously not disturbed by the hospital rules not to smoke inside the premises. Though his sun glasses covered most of his cheeks, his extensively wide grin was visible and seemed to be bigger than his face.

" Ah … Well, my lady … signorina … " Nardone held out his hand to her, as they walked to him.

" Mr. Nardone. " She brushed his hand with a quick light touch and pulled back before he could grasp her fingers, leaving him surprised, but still grinning all the way.

 _He is a mobster, no matter how nice he seems, stay away from him, and don't let him get to you. Remember, there is always a possibility that he is actually playing a game. Don't ever trust him. Mafia is mafia.'_ Perry's words were still fresh and echoed in her mind.

" Did you tell him, my lady ? " Nardone's Italian accent rolled out the 'll' into 'him', which made it sound as if 'tell him' was one word. It made her laugh and feel very awkward at the same time, because it reminded her of times long gone.

She just nodded, very briefly, then sought for Perry's eyes with her own. Mason shook hands with Nardone, smiling politely. He believed there was no use in drawing things out elaborately and just bluntly asked one of the questions that were uppermost on his mind. " What is it that we will be blackmailed about, Nardone ? "

Nardone's grin was wide again. " Right to the point, eh ? I'm not sure you will be blackmailed, Mason, but I just wanted to make sure that it is not possible. "

" Not a chance. " Mason shook his head. " How did you know about the pictures? "

" Well, you know my world is a lot different than yours, Mason. We all know things about each other, some things nice, some things … eehm, well, not nice. " His hands went up in the air, as a jolt of pain shot through his wounded shoulder. He moaned softly. " It sometimes helps to do business if you know things." Nardone tilted his head. " It makes things easier, you know. "

" How did you know about the pictures? " Mason repeated his question, as he gave Della a knowing look. _He is a mobster._

" Ask your friend, Frank Halloran. "

" He's not my friend. " It was a statement.

" He was, when the pictures were taken, hmmm ? "

" Yes. " Mason nodded thoughtfully.

" You were vulnerable, eh? You were weak then, no ? "

" What do you mean? "

" Things like that happen, if you don't pay attention. If you are too weak to pay attention. "

Mason shrugged. " I don't agree with you.Things like that just happen. It's part of the job. People take pictures whenever they like it. Sometimes they just end up being in the wrong hands. "

" My hands are not the wrong ones, Perry Mason. Remember that. " Nardone exchanged a serious look with the big man in front of him, then turned his attention to Della again.

" My lady ? You were beautiful in that red dress Friday … "

" So you said … " Della just gave him a small smile.

" It could be another dress arrives very soon. When another dress arrives, tell me the colour, please. "

" Why? " She looked at him quizically.

" Oh … think. Signora. " He shook his head slowly and the next words came out as if he was singing them. " You should know … Miss Street, you should know. " His face was very serious now, and for the first time ever, he addressed her as 'Miss Street'. As if to underline a serious statement.

" Why don't you just answer the question, Vicento ? " Mason's voice thundered through the room.

" Listen. You know I like you, Mason, I admire your work. I like your lady, she is beautiful and smart. I would not want anything to happen to you, you know that. "

" I'm not sure I believe you, Vicento. "

" Alloco. Ottuso. _Idiot._ Find out for yourself, Mason. " He pointed at his guests frantically with his index finger. " Make sure, you stick together. " Nardone pointed at Della. " Protect her, Mason. And think--who else was there at this Charity Ball to have a good look at your beautiful lady? Hmmm ? Have you taken a good look around you? "

" No. " _I only had eyes for her._

" Because you should have. Now go. Leave. "

" I had hoped to find some answers here, Nardone. "

" As I said to you before, your world is a lot different than mine. A lot. Now leave. "

As they left the private room, an awkward feeling washed over Perry Mason. Feeling as if he really had missed out on something important, he drew his lady close, and tightly wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

" That was odd. " She looked at him, quizically, her statement echoing his thoughts.

" He's warning us about something, Della. And he obviously can't speak in other ways than he did. Something’s up. " He watched her closely. " And we're going to find out what it is. "

" Where do you want to start, Perry? "

" We should check out who was at the Charity Ball last Friday. More specifically, we should figure out who was there uninvited. "

" I'll ask one of the reporters who are here if they or the photographers have pictures of the guests that attended the party. "

" And we should get a list of invited guests."

" And we should get Paul Drake in the office this afternoon. And Ken Malansky."

" And that means we also have to order in some delicious food … "

And so, though dinner this Sunday night was supposed to be enjoyed in companiable silence at their own quiet kitchen table, Della Street and Perry Mason had a quick take out dinner in their office, accompanied by the two young men as they all went through the pictures and the guest list.

It was Paul Drake who first broke the silence. " My …"

" What, Paul? " Ken Malansky looked up from his pile of papers.

" I just found out who my date of the evening really was … No wonder she didn't want to tell me. "

" And? "

" She is Pauline Castellano, granddaughter of Big Paul Castellano, you know, the big mafia boss from New York ? "

" But the Castellano clan had fallen apart, after Big Paul died, so she is not attached to the mafia, right? " Ken assured Paul.

" Yes. So it should be safe to still date her I suppose. "

" Was she on the guest list? " Della asked, supressing a smile.

" Yes. " Paul blew out a big breath.

" Good. " Della looked at Paul.

" Bless you. " Mason added playfully.

" Well, thanks. You've been very helpful. I'm just glad I can still date her, okay ? "

" Sure. And I think your dad would have been proud of you dating a girl without knowing her name. " Mason said softly, as Della treated all three men to a brilliant smile.

" Yeah, yeah, yeah … " Paul turned his attention back to the papers in front of him and a few minutes later, broke the silence again.

" My … "

" What Paul ? "

" I'm checking out a picture of another guest, Judge Eleanor Haroldson … I have to say, she looks rather nice without the glasses, and her hair hanging loose, wearing a dress now in stead of a judge's robe. I'd say she is almost good looking that way… check this out, Ken … " He held out the picture to show it.

" Yeah. Amazing, hmm ? Who else have you got on your pictures ? " Ken queried.

" Honourable Judge Alexander Nelson, D.A. Michael Reston, Mrs. Laura Robertson … " Drake paused there, and threw a short look at Della.

" What ? " She looked up at her godson.

" What what ? "

" Why are you looking at me like that? "

" Just sayin' … Mrs. Laura Robertson. "

" Oh Paul, please … " She shook her head.

" Well, I don't like her, Della, and I don't like what she does to … him. " He pointed at Perry with his chin.

" You can't say that, Paul, because you don't really know her. And what is it she does to … him? " Della made the same gesture with her chin towards Perry, who was obviously too concentrated or pretended to be too concentrated to hear them.

" I have seen her, remember? I know what she did to her husband at the Robertson case, framing him for the murder of Luke Dickinson. I don't like her. And, she makes Perry act like a complete idiot. His tongue is on his shoes when she is around … "

Ken chuckled as he envisioned this.

" Wrong tense, Drake. " The loud courtroom boomer unexpectedly sounded from behind the desk. " And my tongue cannot be on my shoes anymore. I'm too old for that. " Perry snorted. " And too big. " He added softly.

" So, what does she look like anyway, Drake, this Mrs. Robertson ? " Ken peeked over Paul Drake's shoulder to have a good look on the woman he had heard so very much about. His eyes widened. " Oh. Her. God, she is … "

" Yeah … " Drake just confirmed sarcastically without looking.

" Just how old is she? " Ken queried.

" Sixty-two by now. " Perry answered lazily and without thought, thumbing through a copy of the guest list he had just taken from Della.

" Sixty-two. Really ? Well, I wouldn't say that, she looks much younger. "

" Let me see it. " Mason held out his hand.

Obviously too concentrated on the sight on the pictures in front of him, he didn't notice that Della had silently left his office. The moment he became aware, he sighed. " Oh, damn. "

" Could you two get lost for a minute …" he addressed Ken and Paul.

" Sure … "

" I think we'd better be heading for this bar across the street, and you're paying the drinks, you know, Drake … " Ken patted Paul Drake's shoulder.

" Yeah, right. Why ? "

" Because … " the rest of the answer was lost on Perry Mason as the two young men left quickly and closed the door behind them with a loud bang.

Perry yelled after them. " You have to be back here in ten minutes, so don't drink alcohol, it's Sundaynight, we just … "

" What’s this about, Perry? " Della interrupted him, as she walked back into the office again. " Why did you tell them to go? "

" Because … " Mason picked up two photo's from the pile Paul and Ken had left on his desk, and stood up. " … I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Now, look at these … "

" Mmmm-mmm. " She took the pictures from him.

" … and now you tell me … " his eyes were gentle and wide open while looking at her " … why I love you and not her …"

" Oh. " Her shoulders sank in and she sighed deeply. " I know that … Besides, we don't have time for this, Perry. "

" Yes, we do. I just made time. "

" Why ? "

" Because, my lady … signorina … " She smiled at his charming imitation of Vicento Nardone. " You're still not convinced. " He took her empty hand in his, and pulled her to him. " I can't believe that after thirty-five years, you still don't believe me. "

" Who’s counting ? " She chuckled at him playfully.

" I am … " He kissed her lightly on her lips, and moved behind her as she turned her attention to the two photo's, one of her and one of Mrs. Robertson.

" Now tell me … "

" You really want me to do this, don't you? " she looked at him sideways, as he laid his chin on her shoulder.

" Yes. "

She sighed, leaning back to him. " Well, I'm smiling, she's not. I'm wearing red, she’s wearing silver. I'm at Paul Drake's arm, she has one of her juniors with her and she doesn't look to pleased with him … "

" It's her eyes, baby, look at her eyes … And look at her body language … "

" Her eyes are … " Della hesitated " … cold, a bit insecure, unfocussed. She looks tense. "

" It's not just that. And it's not tense. She looks untouchable, there’s no emotion, Della. Don't you see that ? The young man on her arm gets no attention at all, it’s like her arm is there by coincidence. As if she needed some sort of support and he just happened to be there. "

" What is it you want to tell me? " She laid the pictures on Perry's desk and turned towards him.

" You want to hear me say it, hmm ? "

" Yes. " She wrapped her arms around his neck, as his hands travelled to her waist, then lingered down to her hips all the while lightly caressing her soft curves.

" I have never loved someone more than I have loved you. "

" Oh, I like the sound of that. Go on … "

" And I don't ever want you to question my love for you, baby. " His voice was impossibly low, and soft.

" I don't doubt you. " She reached for his mouth with her own, allowing him to enter and deepen the kiss. After he obliged, she whispered against his lips. " It's like something you said yourself this morning, which goes for me too. I can not not trust you. I can not not believe you. And, I just can not not love you. "

" You still look like twenty-five to me. " He moaned softly as he allowed his hands to wander free. " And, you still feel like twenty-five to me. "

" You are a flatterer. "

" I’ve had a lot of practice. " His grin was dimple deep.

" Oh. " She slapped his chest, before turning to pick up the pictures again. Concentrating hard, she narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her forehead into a frown. " Perry ? "

" Do you finally see what I mean? "

She shook her head. " No. That's not what I’m looking at now. Look at this. Look at that young man behind her … "

He took the photo from her. " I'll be damned … "

" Is that … ? " Her eyes queried his serious face.

" Yes. Yes, it is. It’s Jeffrey Sorrento. "

" Things are getting a little complicated now, aren’t they? "

Mason was about to answer as Paul Drake entered the office again, quickly followed by Ken Malansky.

" Ten minutes sharp. Anything uhm … exciting happened? "

" We just found a surprising guest who was at the party, and I guess he wasn’t invited … " Perry showed the picture and pointed at the young man that stood behind Laura Robertson. " Jeffrey Sorrento. "

" Yeah, Johnny Sorrento's son. " Ken explained to Paul. " From the Sorrento case last year. You know when Frank Halloran turned out to be the killer. "

Drake nodded.

Ken Malansky thumbed through the list of invited guests " You're right, Perry. He wasn't invited. He wasn’t on the list. "

As the evening wore on, none of them could figure out why Jeffrey Sorrento had attended the Charity Ball, apart from the obvious reasons. Also, there seemed to be no one else in the pictures who wasn't invited. Realizing there was nothing more they could do that evening they decided to leave the ‘puzzle solving’ for the following days.

Of course, Vicento Nardone's warning was still on their minds, but the information that really sent shivers down the great Perry Mason's spine, came to him the following Monday evening, right after dinner.

" Come in Paul, " Mason yelled as he heard the coded knock on his office door. He smiled. Paul Jr. used the same typical rythm as his father used to do, and he probably didn't even realize it.

" Della in ? " The young man's eyes searched the office.

" No. " Mason sensed there was something wrong. He watched silently from over the rim of his glasses, as Paul moved restlessly around his office, searching for something he obviously couldn't find. " What have you got, Paul ? What did you find ? "

The way Paul Drake sat himself down on the edge of Mason's desk did nothing to reassure him. At all. In fact, it made him worry more. " I'm not really sure you're going to like it, Perry. I pretty much don't like it myself. " He sighed deeply.

" Try me. " Mason sat back and pursed his lips.

" You know I’m still investigating the red, heavy satin dress Della received, the one she wore last Friday? Nardone had made some comments about it, you know, about the colour and all? "

" Yes. "

" My ehm … date that evening … "

" The redhaired beauty … ? "

" She indeed was Big Paul Castellano's granddaughter, Pauline. "

" Yes. We already figured that out. "

" So, I spoke to her again today, we had lunch together, and I asked her about Nardone, and his … uhm … hobbies … "

Mason grinned.

" Seriously, Perry, Pauline told me something I didn't know and sure as hell don't like. We talked about these dresses, mafia, and her origins. She said that it wasn’t a coincidence that Nardone has this passion to design and make dresses. She said that in the twenties and thirties, you know, when you guys were born … "

Mason made a dismissive gesture. " Yes, yes, we're old … I know … go on … "

" … the actual colour of dresses had a meaning. It was a way to pass on messages from one family to the other. "

" Yeah, I remember that, it was called _'the colour code'._ They used it to comment about each other's ways, or exchange warnings without actual words. "

" Yeah. "

" So, the colour of Della's dress was meant to communicate something? That's hard to believe, Paul. "

" Yeah, well, there’s something else, Perry. You see, the actual colour of the dresses was important, but in the West, especially throughout Califonia, Oregon and Idaho, there was also something particular about the ladies wearing them. " He scratched the back of his neck at the frown of the big man behind his desk. " They only allowed certain women to wear these so called _'communicating colours'._ "

" _Certain women,_ Paul? "

" Yeah. "

" Meaning … ? "

Paul Drake was silent. Standing up, he coughed, drawing his upperlip into his mouth. He cleared his throat and sniffed. " They were … "

" Talk to me. " Mason barked impatiently while he hit his desk, palm flat against the surface.

" They were mafia sweethearts. " It was almost inaudible. Drake cleared his throat again.

" Mafia sweethearts ? "

" Yeah. Not the big bosses' lawfully wedded wives, but their girlfriends. Because they weren’t married and part of the family yet, these women could be 'used' so to speak, to pass the messages on. "

" So, what you are saying, is that these certain women were ganster's sweethearts and wore dresses in a certain colour that held a message. " Perry was writing it down. Maybe if he wrote it down, things were going to make sense. At this point, it made no sense at all.

" Yes. " Drake tried to straighten his composure as he paced through the office. " Now, Pauline asked me if I was referring to a certain event or someone specific. I didn't say it of course, but she guessed it was about Della. And so she suggested … "

" ...yes … "

" She suggested I find out a little more about Della's past to see if she maybe … " Drake paused.

" What ? " Perry snapped. Because he slowly became more and more aware of the reason why he was not going to like this. At all.

" Maybe she … I don't … You know … " Suddenly Paul Drake blew out a big breath, turned and walked straight to Perry's desk, leaned forward over it, looking straight into the lawyer's eyes. " Perry, this red dress was sent specifically to Della, at the right convenient moment, just before the Charity Ball and just before Nardone came to Denver and was attacked here. At the exact moment Frank Halloran escapes from prison. At the very moment Jeffrey Sorrento, also mafia, shows up at a party he wasn't invited to. "

" What are you saying, Paul? "

" Maybe we should consider ehm … investigating this. What and where was Della before she came to L.A. ? Do you know that? "

" Well, I had her backgrounds checked before she came to work for me of course, your father did that … forty years ago. And we didn't … " He stood up. The moment he became aware of what he was doing, he turned and hit his desk with his fist. " No!. " In answer to Drake's gaze, he fumed. " It's Della, Paul. It's Della we're talking about here. " His loud voice reached the other side of the office.

" Just sayin'. It's a suggestion. "

" I don't want you to just say it. Or just suggest it. "

" I'm not saying she's aware of anything, or that she is part of it on purpose, Perry. I'm just saying that she might be used by someone, because of her past or whatever, without knowing, or without anyone having told her. "

" No. "

" Perry, it is a possibility. You have to look into it. We don't know what she did before coming to L.A. What she did when she was young … " He swallowed before he tried to joke in spite of himself " … and stupid like me. "

Mason ignored the joke. " No. "

" Yes. "

" Damn it! No! " He sat down behind his desk again, holding his head in his hands.

" Yes, Perry. Remember, I was there when you found out about Della's engagement to this Domino guy, or whatever his name was. I don't know if you knew about the engagement before, as it was none of my business of course, but have you ever checked him out afterwards? Have you ever fully investigated his alledged connections to the mafia ? "

" His name is Domenico, Paul. Michael Domenico, and yes … " Perry sighed " … I knew about him before. That act at the Tony Domenico trial was meant to cause distraction back then, to buy us some time, and to lead the prosecution away from finding evidence against Tony. " He sighed again. " I've always known about Della's engagement to Michael Domenico. That's why I asked her to testify as a character witness. "

" Was Michael a mafioso? " Ashamed, because he deliberately asked a question he already knew the answer to, Paul sat down in front of Perry's desk, avoiding his gaze.

Mason nodded slowly, rubbing his beard, watching Paul Drake thoughtfully. " Yes. "

" Did Della know ? "

" Yes. " Mason's eyes drifted off to the door in his office that lead to Della's desk. His eyes lit up for a few seconds, then softened, but Paul missed it since he still wasn’t able to look up. " That's why they broke off their engagement. She didn't want to be part of it. She didn't want to be part of the family. "

" What happened to Michael Domenico, do you know? "

Mason stood up and stretched out his large frame. He turned to look out of the office window. " Michael Domenico died twenty-four years ago in a hit and run accident. But no one actually ever believed it was an accident. And, no one ever really found out what happened. " He spoke softly over his shoulder towards Drake. " Della and I went to his funeral … It was quite spectacular really. Lots of sunglasses. "

" So, what if I very discretely investigate this, Perry? Maybe something comes up that explains why she is being used now, to wear this dress and to pass on a message. Whatever the message is. "

" Oh. " The big man sighed very deeply, shaking his head.

" She doesn't have to know, Perry. I'll be very prudent. "

Perry snorted.

" What, I can be prudent and discrete. "

" I know, Paul. I'm just laughing at you using that word. "

" I'll be very cautious. She'll never notice it. "

" I'm going to see Nardone about this information. " Then he answered Paul's question, before he could ask it. " Alone. "

" Now, you investigate what you told me. Do it, and do it discretely and be careful. " Perry's voice was deep and soft. " And Paul, you can't make her not notice it. " The large hand on his shoulder made Paul look up into the serious face of Perry Mason, as the resistance to this statement died on his lips. In his peripheral sight, he noticed the form of Della Street.

" Oh, Della … " Drake turned enough to see her. " How long have you been standing there ? "

" Long enough." Her small frame leaned backwards against the door. She shook her head slowly. " How did I get into this again? I can't believe this is happening, Perry. "

" Neither can I. " Mason opened the door to Malansky's office. " Kenneth? " His voice was insistent.

" Yes, Perry? " He stood next to the big man immediately. Once Perry Mason started to use his full name, something serious was going on. " Could you take Della home, please. "

Ken nodded.

Perry took Della's coat and gently and slowly helped her into it, while she desperately tried to control her hands from shaking. His voice was soft as he spoke to her. " I need to make some phonecalls together with Paul, and I want to go to the hospital afterwards to speak to Nardone about this information. "

He took her hands in his and kissed her forehead, before looking into her eyes. " Now, you go home with Ken, and later we'll talk about this, and what this might mean. I have to find some more information first. It might be nothing, but we have to know for sure. "

" Yes. " She looked at him.

" Baby … " He lifted her chin and kissed her lightly. " Take care of her. " He addressed Ken, who nodded before offering her his arm.

As they arrived at the house, and Ken was finally allowed to enter after being thoroughly searched by the officers in charge, Della stopped him from taking off his coat.

" Thank you for taking me home safely, but you really can leave now, Ken. You don't have to stay. "

" Are you sure? " He laid his hands on her shoulders gently.

" I just want to be alone for a while, take a shower, read a book … Perry will be here soon. " She took in the features of his worried face. " Oh, Ken, things will be fine, you know the security men check in here every fifteen minutes. "

" It doesn't feel right to leave you here on your own. I mean, I do know you're not alone with these guys outside checking on you every now and then, but … "

" Go home, Ken. Get some sleep." She took his hands from her shoulders and squeezed them lightly. " I'll be fine, just fine. "

And although the big, powerful Perry Mason himself had warned Ken more than once about the very dangerous and false _'fine, just fine'_ -ness of Della Street, Ken Malansky went home because she told him to do so.

But she shouldn't have sent him away.

She really shouldn't have done that.


	8. Chapter 8

Alone and deep in thought, Della stood still, and listened to her heartbeat.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

The hot shower had not brought the complete relaxation she had been looking for, as thoughts and doubts continued to swirl in her mind. Had she told him everything?

Of course. He knew about her past, her present and her future.

Perry knew about everything, because she had told him everything there was to know a long time ago. While working together and struggling to have a relationship they both could understand and handle—a relationship that eventually exceeded the boundaries of friends becoming lovers she had laid her entire past in front of him. They needed to work together on a basis of complete trust, without secrets and without hidden agenda's. He knew everything about her, as she knew everything there was to know about him.

He knew about the engagement, he had even seen her pictures.

He knew she had broken off the engagement, because life in a mafia family was not what she wanted. The thought of having to become a 'mama' had suffocated her. And, truth to be told, she hadn't really loved Michael Domenico. He was fun to be with, he had taught her more about her body than she would ever be able to learn from the books she read, but then, that was hardly a basis for a marriage.

During the Tony Domenico trial, just a few years ago, the reunion with the Domenico family had been very positive and heart-warming.

So, things were 'fine-just fine', weren't they? Who had decided to rake up all this ancient history? And why? Of course, every now and then, someone dug into her past just to have something to entertain the public, and write a felonious article in one of those scandalous magazine or news paper, but that was it, wasn't it?

Why this ? And why now?

She shook at the sound of heavy footsteps in the hall way towards the kitchen and looked up.

" Oh. " She blew out a breath, and held a hand to her chest. One of the officers she had seen before, walked into the kitchen slowly, apologetically.

" Oh, Miss Street, I'm sorry … I'm just checking the house, I didn't mean to scare you … "

" I'm all right, thank you. "

" Are you sure? Can I get you anything? "

She shook her head. " No, no, it's me, dear. I'm a bit, well … What's the right word? … whatever … Anything the matter, officer ? "

" Well, there was a package delivered for you today. We screened it thoroughly, Miss Street, and it seems to be okay. Do you want me to go and get it for you ? "

" No, tomorrow will be fine … Thank you. "

" All right, Miss Street."

As she listened to the sound of the leaving footsteps, she held the doorframe, and leaned her head to it to feel the cool wood against her forehead. Straigthening her back, stretching all the tight muscles, she rolled her head from side to side. " So what happened here ? A darn satin dress … Red. " , she muttered to herself. " And where did Michael Domenico come from this time ? Out of the blue … " She silently laughed at herself, and reached out for the bottle of bourbon. " Out of the _blue_ … another colour … "

Sighing wearily, the glass she had poured herself now shook in her hands as a cold shiver went down her spine. The ice cubes tingled against the crystal tumbler. Annoyance and anger were taking over. She spoke out loud to herself. " Oh, get a grip, Della Street. "

" Yes, get a grip, my dearest Della … "

" Oh, my God … " The blood drained from her face as she put the glass down with a loud bang. She turned and gasped at the sight of this man, so impossibly present in her house.

" No, not your God … it's just me … " The crackling sound of his voice matched his appearance. He had looked very old before, but he looked a hell of a lot older now. The dark circles around his eyes, his crooked back, weary gaze and the shaking of his hands clearly showed that he had not aged well at all.

" I see it is … " her eyes went dark. " … _just you_ … " She emphasized the last words. _How did he get in here?_

" Do I deserve that kind of treatment? From you? I've always been nice to you. " He walked through the house as if he had never done anything else. As if he knew the way. She just followed him with her eyes, preparing for what was to come.

" How did you get in here? " She tried to steady her voice.

" That's not really the question is it? " He laughed sarcastically. " Don't you think, the right question would be: how do I get out? Or, how do you get me out of here ? "

She just watched him.

" So, this is where you and Perry live … together? " His hand stroked the fabric of the sofa in front of the hearth.

" Yes. " She glanced at the phone next to her on the small table.

He noticed her stare and understood her intentions. " I wouldn't bother, Della. I unplugged this one. It's just you and me for now. "

" For now? " She turned to see if there was any way she could alert the officers outside, but the curtains were closed. She swore inwardly.

" Yes. I know security checks in here every fifteen minutes, so I'll have to be sure to be gone within fifteen minutes. But I do need to come back to speak to your lawyer, baby … "

" Don't _baby_ me ... " she hissed " … and Perry is … " She stopped. She was about to say Perry went to the hospital to speak to Nardone, but decided not to. Her mind was still working frantically on how to reach either Paul or Ken, or how to draw attention away from her.

" What ? "

" He can walk in any minute … " she lied.

" Let's wait for him, and tell him something more about you. "

" He knows everything about me there is to know … "

" Oh, you think so … "

" I know so. "

" My darling Della, stubborn as always. "

" Why are you here? " She turned to him again, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and gasped at the small pistol she suddenly found pointed at her.

" Don't worry, Della, I won't use it on you. But I do have some questions that need an answer. "

" Good. Because I have some questions for you too. "

" Oh. " He snorted, and laughed sarcastically. " Really. That could be interesting. "

" Leave me alone. " She jerked her head to the side when he reached out to touch her cheek.

He snorted. " Oh, come on now. I just want to talk to you, Della, and I'll be gone before you know it. "

And as he had said before, he indeed left, within fifteen minutes. A very long fifteen minutes.

Another fifteen minutes after that, her hands had stopped shaking enough to be able to use the phone.

" Ken? I need you here … " Her voice was steady, but the tone wasn't and Ken Malansky heard the tremble that was not supposed to be there. He sat right up in his bed, yanking the blankets away from him.

" What is it? " Throwing his clothes on, holding the receiver between his shoulder and ear, he listened to her ragged breathing. She was crying, and hiding it. " Hold on, I'll be there in ten minutes. "

" I can't find Perry. And Paul. You don't have to rush, Ken … I just … the police are here … I'm fine… But I can't find Perry … "

" I'll be there in ten minutes. " He hung up and hurried down the stairs towards his front door, taking three steps at the time.

It took him eleven minutes to reach the big house. As an ambulance sped off the drive way, Ken ran to the back of the house to avoid the swarms of policemen outside the front door, ripped the keys from the two officers next to the back door, fumbled with the keys, while he showed his identification, tried the wrong key, swore, found the right key, and opened the door. He yelled. "Della? "

The kitchen was empty, the lights were on but she wasn't there. The living room, the library, the hall way, the living room again.

" Mr. Malansky ? " A female officer recognized him, and tried to calm him down.

" Where is she, damn it? "

" She is all right, Sir, she's … "

But he ran through the hall way again.

" Damn it! Della! " He screamed at the top of his lungs.

" Ken … " It was a small voice at his left side. She sat on the second step of the stairs, next to the phone, her head down.

Ken Malansky turned towards the soft voice next to him, fell down on his knees and pulled her to him, throwing his arms around her. " Della… "

Her face was pale and she was cold. He took of his jacket, wrapped it around her, and pulled her against him again. " Damn. "

" I shouldn't have left you alone here, damn it ... " He pulled back to look at her. " What happened ? " But she didn't answer.

" What happened? " He asked the female officer that stood next to them now.

" He was here, Ken. " Della answered, yet her voice was still not steady.

" Who was here, Della ? "

" Frank Halloran was here. "

" Frank Halloran? How the hell ? "

" He must have been in here before they … , before we… " She didn't finish. " Maybe he bribed his way in here. I just don't know. But he was here. "

" Did he hurt you? What did he want? "

She blew out a breath. " No, he didn't hurt me. He wanted to talk about things that happened in the past. And … "

" And … ? "

" He left some pictures here. " She handed Ken an envelope.

" Wow …" Ken's eyes widened as he watched the photo's one by one. " Well, it shouldn't be a problem to prove they're fake. They've obviously been tampered with. "

" No. " she said almost soundlessly. " They're not, Ken. "

" Oh. "

She sighed as she took the photo's from him again, and laid them on the stairs next to her, face down.

Ken looked at her quizically. " But I … "

" They were taken a long time ago when Perry and I were apart … when we were stupid. It's a long story, Ken, I don't want to explain what has happened, because it was a long time ago. What you need to know is, that this was not important. Until now. "

####

On the other side of the city, an astounded and speechless Perry Mason touched the white walls of the private hospital room. The certainty and determination he had felt, walking in here, to demand explanations, willing and able to use all of his physical and legal power to wrench truth and reasons out of the big mafiaso, was completely erradicated the minute he became aware of the absolute silence and emptiness in this room.

Had the smell of cigar smoke not been there, he would have seriously started to doubt his earlier perceptions. He leaned back against the window sill, and shook his head.

There was no sign of the presence of the man with the sun glasses, nothing at all. Vicento Nardone and his staff, rules and peculiarities had evaporated into thin air. His own words hit him like a hammer.

_Don't trust them, no matter how nice they seem. Mafia is mafia._

He swore. In a frantic pace, his legs unaware of their strain, Mason swore again and walked down the corridor to the floor's nurses station.

" Excuse me. " He had trouble to keep his voice down.

" Yes. "

His face looked like a brick wall, and it scared her. She recognized the man, but she wasn't sure from where.

" Where is Mr. Nardone? "

" Who, Sir ? "

" Your patient, Mr. Vicento Nardone. He stayed here, because he was shot last Friday at the airport. He was in one of the private rooms, very heavily guarded by his own staff. I'm very sure you know about him. The whole city of Denver knew he was here. "

" I don't know who you're talking about, Mr. ehm … ? "

" Mason, my name is Mason. "

" Well, Mr. Mason. I don't know who you are talking about, but I have to tell you, if I had known I would not be allowed to speak about patients from this hospital with people that are not related. "

" So you know about him, and you are not allowed to talk to me? "

" No. "

" No, you're not allowed to talk to me, or no, you don't know? Or you do know ? " In this instance, confusion was the best way to elicit the information he needed.

" I don't know, Sir. " But she flushed. The poor girl flushed and was now exposed to the severe proficiencies of a criminal defense lawyer who had done nothing but extract information from people that tried to hide something from him. For just about the last fifty years, he had filleted notorious liars and damsels with hideous secrets. She could be crushed easily. But he decided to be gentle.

" Are you sure? " His staring eyes pierced her composure. His instinct was taking over. She was lying.

" Yes. " She croaked out.

" Think again, young lady. Are you sure? "

" I … eh … "

He pitched forward to stop her hand, but it was too late. She had already pushed the buttton to alarm security. Within seconds, he was surrounded by three guards, who had appeared out of nowhere.

" What's happening here? Is this man harassing you, Miss? "

" No. " Mason answered.

" Yes. " the nurse answered.

" Who are you, Mr. ? "

" My name is Perry Mason, I came in here to see Vicento Nardone, who was a patient here. You see, I'm an attorney … "

He was cut off by one of the guards, who planted his index finger into Mason's massive chest.

" I don't care who you are, Mr. Attorney Perry Mason. No one comes in here to harass hospital staff. No one, do you get that? "

" I'm sorry about that. But I … "

" What's happening here? "

Mason snorted and inhaled deeply. Two officers appeared, apparently out of nowhere as well and waved their badges in front of his face.

" Mr. Mason, Mr. Attorney here, has been harassing Miss De Jong about a patient ", one of the guards informed them.

" Oh, really, _Mr. Perry Mason_ himself. " As if he was enjoying himself, the officer pulled out his hand cuffs.

Mason just watched him. This was probably one of the officers he had once cross examined too harshly on the stand, or had caught in an act that was about to be criminal, or had caught blackmailing, or being blackmailed. He knew about them, about the corruption, about the cheating, the lying men and women of the police force. They were the ones that were always trying to get back to him, wherever or whenever they could.

Like right now, when things didn't look perticularly good for him.

" So, you have harassed a nurse, _Mr. Mason_ , and I want to take your statement. Sir, I'm afraid I have to ask you to come to the station with me. "

" What? " Mason grunted.

" Harassing hospital staff is a very serious offence, Mr. Mason. It's not something we take lightly. Now, if you please … "

" No. "

" Sir ? "

" No. " He shook his head. " Listen, I don't have time for this. I wish to talk to your superior. "

He hit a nerve he knew existed. The policeman turned and barked at him in a matter that surprised him. " I'm not good enough for you, Mr. Attorney? "

" No, I didn't say that. I said I wish to speak to your superior. " Not impressed by the anger of the officer, he used a courtroom voice. " Something strange has happened here, a patient has disappeared, and I think Lieutenant Brock wants to know about it. "

" Why? Do you think I can't handle it? "

" No. I didn't say that. I want to talk to Lieutenant Brock, because I think Nardone's disappearance is related to another case he's working on right now. "

" And that being? "

" The escape of Frank Halloran. "

The officer started to speak again, but was cut off.

" Lieutenant Brock wants to speak to you, Sir. " A hospital guard walked towards them, as the officer held out his hand, but missed the walkie-talkie as it was handed over to Perry, who could not and deliberately did not suppress a broad smile.

" I'll get you for this, Mason … " The officer hissed at the big man, but stepped back at the moment Perry moved his impressive frame towards him.

" I'm looking forward to that … " Mason checked the name plate on his uniform, and then looked him directly in his eyes. " … Malloy. "

" Ed ? "

" Mason? They told me you're causing a mess at the hospital, but you really have to get your ass over here right now. I'm at your home, and … "

" What ? Is Della okay ? "

" Well, something happened here. Someone entered your house, an officer was shot … " He paused there to take a breath. " And where the hell have you been all this time? We couldn't find you, Mason … Hell, I thought something happened to _you_ ..."

" Is Della okay, Ed? " Mason repeated his question.

" Yes, Sir, she's fine, but I really want you here, Sir. " The nasal tones of Lieutenant Brock's voice did absolutely nothing to make Mason feel better.

So, for the second time in just forty-eight hours, Perry Mason was transported again to find out if Della was really all right, the reflection of the flashing lights above his head on the roof. He sighed deeply. Tapping the window of the police car with one finger, he looked outside without seeing anything, thinking about the questions he had wanted to ask Vicento Nardone. The conversation Paul Drake had arranged with the professor tonight before he went to the hospital had not really shed any clear light on the matter of the red dress. Well, it had. But it had also made him worry more than he cared to admit. As had the sudden disappearance of Nardone.

_" I have found a professor in criminal history, who has specialized in mafia. He wants to help us tonight, and he is on the phone as we speak. " Drake sat down proudly at Perry's desk, and pulled the phone over to his side. " Professor? Are you still there? "_

_" His name is Rudolph McNama." He whispered to Perry._

_" I'll be damned … Rudi McNama. " Mason snorted and pursed his lips._

_" D'ya know him? " Paul asked him matter of factly. Was there anyone not known to Perry Mason? He pushed the button on the telephone to activate the speaker._

_" Yes, I know him … " Perry nodded, as he rubbed his hands together and looked up at the young man. " Don't ask. "_

_" Professor McNama? "_

_" Peary ! "_

_Paul Drake's eyebrows went up as his eyes widened in pure amusement. " Peary? " he mouthed. He smirked as he was growled at again by the big man behind his desk. " Don't ask, Drake … "_

_" Now, Rudi … "_

_" What can I do for you, big fellow ? "_

_" Well, we are in the middle of a case Rudi, and it involves mafia this time. It is too complicated to explain all of it to you, so I'll make it short. "_

_" I understand. "_

_" They're making use of an old … I was about to say 'ritual', but that's not the right word. An old custom, so to speak. It involves the use of colours as a way of communication. "_

_" Ah, the 'colour code' , that was used as a way to communicate between the families. That is really old, Perry, really old indeed. But, frankly, the basis of it is quite simple. In this system you are referring to, five colours were used. There is black, blue, and the colours of the Italian flag, which are red, green and white. Now, black is the colour of impartiality, and blue is the colour of innocence. So, the colours that were really interesting were red, green and white. Red is the colour of blood and war, conflict. Green is the colour of love, as in fertility, richness … "_

_" And white, professor ? " Drake interrupted him._

_" White is kind of complicated, Mr. Drake. The use of white can be compared to the use of the 'white flag' as a sign of surrender, a sign of weakness or a sign of giving up resistance, and being willing to talk or negociate. For example, a man used to send white flowers to a lady if he knew the lady's heart belonged to another man, and he wanted to be friends with them … "_

_Mason slowly nodded. So the flowers Della had received had indeed been sent by Nardone. White, long stemmed roses as a sign to make a statement to Della as well as to Perry. He smiled._

_The professor continued. " The families used to send each other flowers and letters in these different colours. But, especially the letters were tricky at times. Apparently, the words itself that were written in the letters could have quite a different connotation, depending on the colour of the writing-paper. " He cleared his throat. " Though it is a very interesting feature of the mafia population, not very much is known about it, unfortunately. But, from what I have seen, Perry, it demanded a great deal of knowing about the different ties and relations between the families to be able to understand the full meaning of the colours, and to be able to read in between the lines if you know what I mean… "_

_" I think I know what you mean, Rudi … " Mason shared a knowing look with Drake._

_" Quite fascinating that you came across something like this. It tells an awful lot about the mafia and the families and ancient secrets that could be involved. An awful lot. "_

_" Yes. Well, now, if we're talking fabrics, Rudi … "_

_" What do you mean, Perry? "_

_" What if we are talking about dresses here? Different colours on different dresses … "_

_This silence was too long._

_Perry scratched his neck, then pulled his ear. Paul Drake swallowed and tapped his feet to the floor._

_" Dresses? " The professor cleared his throat again. " That's a slightly different story. Now, the colour of the dress basically held the same message. But it was actually about the lady, or I should say, the girl wearing it. "_

_" Go on. "_

_" The girl wearing these communicating colours at parties, weddings or such ocassions, was strictly the girlfriend of the eldest son, or the oldest girlfriend of the father of the family. She was not married. Once she was married, she was part of the family, and she could not be 'used' so to speak to wear the communicating colours. "_

_" Now, if she wore blue or black, there was no particular message and things were normal and fine. If she wore green, it was to emphasize the peace and understanding between the families who joined the occassion. If she wore red, that usually meant the two families disagreed about something major, and big trouble was ahead. Someone would be killed, shot, obducted, but not the lady wearing the dress. But if she wore white … "_

_" Yes? "_

_" It meant she would no longer be part of the communication. That could have a lot of reasons of course, like she was getting too old, she had cheated, or was accused of having cheated, that sort of things. She was always held captive by the family, until she would be transported to another family to marry someone there, and was never to be seen with her former boyfriend. Both would receive strict orders to never meet again. "_

_" Transported to another family? That's disgusting … " Drake said._

_" Yeah, well, in these families, Mr. Drake, offspring was an important issue, so if there weren't enough women to marry the youngsters … well … Let's say, they thought this was a nice solution. These 'transactions', excuse me for that word, took place as payments for drugs, land, property. "_

_" What happened if she did wear white, and was seen with her boyfriend ? " Paul Drake dared to ask._

_" They were killed. Both of them. "_

_Mason dropped his pen._

_" But this is ancient history, Perry. And, as far as I know, it only happened twice. "_

_" So, it's a more of a symbolic notion actually. " Drake said reassuringly, trying to cheer himself up._

_" This was very common in the early twenties and thirties, but it's never used nowadays. I haven't seen it in any literature of the last forty years. "_

_" And it sounds so ridiculous, communicating through colours. Childish, somehow. " Drake was really having a hard time cheering himself up. He was treated to a stern look from Mason, who mouthed 'shut up' to him._

_The professor hesitated. " Perry, I'm sorry but … I have to ask … This doesn't involve Della in any way, does it? "_

_Perry suddenly looked up at Paul._

_" No, no, no. " He said it slowly, rubbing his face, and closing his eyes._

_" Perry? "_

_" Yes, Rudi. "_

_" Good luck with this one. If you need anything else, anything at all, just call me, okay ? "_

_" Thank you, Rudi. And I will. Goodbye. "_

_The line was disconnected._

_" This shouldn't worry us as much as it does, don't you_ _think, Perry? "_

_" It does worry me, Paul."_

_" Why? The professor says it is ancient history. Maybe someone is just playing a game ? "_

_" Maybe someone is. But I know for a fact that this 'someone', is still living in the past. "_

###

The drive way to his house was filled with officers and journalists, who moved aside very slowly and reluctantly in spite of the howling sirens and flashing lights. Mason swore as it took too long to finally reach his doorstep. Ignoring anyone who yelled and needed his attention, he walked into the hall way of his home.

" Ah, Mason. " Lieutenant Brock tried to hide his worry, an attempt that failed because of the very well trained eye of the lawyer.

" Where is Della? Is she all right? "

Knowing he would not get anything out of this man before giving him the answer to this question, Brock sighed and decided to answer it first.

" Yes, Sir, Mr. Mason, she's fine. We took her somewhere safe, Mason, somewhere safe untill we find this Frank Halloran, who was indeed here. "

" Frank Halloran … " He moaned. " So where is she? Where is Della? "

" I can't tell you, Sir. "

" I think you can, Lieutenant. "

" No, Mr. Mason. I can't. This man is dangerous, he already shot one of my men, who was just taken to the hospital in critical condition. It's a definete 'no'. I'm not going to tell you where she is. " He pointed his index finger at Perry. " And, I have been talking to someone about these 'communicating colours', that seem to be connected to the red dress Miss Street received and wore earlier, Mason. I think there is a lot you should know. "

" I already have spoken to someone about that, Ed. " He sighed deeply and tightened his jaws. " And, where the hell were you when this happened? " he turned his broad frame towards Ken suddenly, and watched him, his concrete stare a warning for the young man to use the right words, and to be very sorry. Very, very sorry.

" I was at home, Perry. "

" At home, _Kenneth_ ? " The loud and low voice bashed through the hall way. Ken Malansky knew he had to offer his sincere apologies, but he couldn't. His whole body seemed to implode.

" I told you to stay with her, Ken … "

" She told me to leave, she said she was … "

" … _'fine-just-fine'_ , hmmm. " Mason finished his sentence. Ken just nodded. " Damn it, Malansky, how many times do I have to tell you that _'fine, just fine'_ usually means the opposite? " He grabbed the poor man by his collar.

" Uhm, Mason. Before you actually do kill someone in front of me, I have to tell you there was another package delivered to your Miss today, Sir. " Ed Brock pulled Mason's arm.

" Where is it? " Mason grunted and released his grip on Ken.

" On the table in there, Mason. " The Lieutenant pointed at the kitchen, his attention drawn to one of his police officers stepping inside the hall way. After he spoke to the officer softly, Brock swore extensively and very uncharacteristically. He walked back to where the attorney was standing.

" Damn it … We're dealing with homicide now. The officer that was taken away from here died on his way to the hospital. "

" I'm sorry, Brock. " Perry said honestly. After a short silence, he spoke softly. " Now, if you tell me where Della is, I can take care of this myself … "

" Are you insane? I just lost one of my men, Mason. I'm sure as hell not telling you where your Miss is, or you might lose her too. If you have half the information I have about these darn colours, you know why I will not have you contact her … Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a widow to talk to. " Brock left the house furious and frustrated and saddened by the day's events.

A sudden desolation filled the kitchen, as Perry turned to the table where the package lay abandonned as a silent witness. Maybe a silent perpetrator.

Something that had started just a few days ago, with an attractive red dress for a very attractive lady, was now turning into a very complicated case. And, it was going to be even more complicated.

He immediately recognized the little envelope that was attached to the package. It was the exact same envelope as the one that had been attached to the package of the red dress.

" What a mess ... " Mason grunted as he sat down slowly.

The string of curses that left his mouth, made Ken Malansky leave silently.

He opened the envelope, and pulled out a red card. He read the message out loud.

_\- I will love you forever -_

VN

A red card. " Oh, Lord. "

His hands tore at the package, and through the layers of thin wrapping paper, he could feel fabric.

No. No. No.

But this dress was indeed white...Whiter than the Denver snow.


End file.
